Watching and Waiting Reloaded
by lilyevansJan30
Summary: A series of unconnected Harry/Ginny one-shots. Some take place in the same general post-DH universe, but some are standalone.
1. Starting Over

So, this is the beginning of a little series of one-shots that all more or less take place one after the other. They are going to be sexy and they aren't going to have much plot, so I'm putting them here, in Watching and Waiting. Harry and Ginny didn't get very far when they dated at Hogwarts, so this is a time of experimentation for them. They will get sexier from here. Enjoy!

It was three days after Voldemort had died and for now, everyone was back at the Burrow. Harry's giddy thrill of freedom had worn off quickly and now the weight of loss was almost unbearable. He tried to make himself simultaneously invisible and as helpful as possible because he just didn't know where to be or what to say. These people were the closest thing he'd ever had to a family and yet, he believed they deserved to mourn much more deeply than he did.

He had taken to flying very early in the morning, before anyone was awake and today when he came back to the kitchen, George was there. Harry stopped short. There were a million things he wanted to say and no words to say them, but George spoke first, short, and to the point.

"You didn't kill Fred. What you did, or didn't do, that had nothing to do with it." He was wringing something in his hands that Harry thought might have been a Skiving Snackbox.

"It was Voldemort," George continued. He was evil, his followers were evil, and our family has been blood traitors since before you were born".

Harry tried to find his voice. "But . . . " he began.

"No buts," said George firmly. "And no 'ifs' either. I cannot live the rest of my life thinking 'but this, or if that'" and if you do, I'll hex you. Understand?"

Harry nodded mutely, feeling supremely helpless.

"But there is one thing you can do for me."

Harry found his voice. "Anything."

A ghost of a smile. "You should know better than to promise us . . . me, _anything_ , Potter." The smile disappeared. Harry waited.

Tomorrow is the ... the funeral," said George in a much quieter voice. "Fred's funeral," he added unnecessarily.

"Yes."

"It's going to be fucking horrible," he added, also unnecessarily.

Harry waited, still unsure where George was going.

"We all are going to need to lean on one another tomorrow, and for a long time afterwards," George was quiet, he was almost talking to himself. Harry didn't know what to say, if George meant for him to hear or if he just happened to be the one in the kitchen when George decided to talk.

"Mum, dad, my brothers, our friends, everyone who loves . . . who loved . . . Fred is going to need someone's hand to hold." He looked fiercely at Harry. "It's your job to hold Ginny's hand."

Harry looked at George. "What?"

"You heard me. You have to be there for Ginny. And I know she'll be there for you. Don't think we haven't all noticed how you two look at each other."

"Yes, but. . ." Harry began.

"Remember, I said no buts," repeated George. "I mean it. You promised me a favor."

"Of course," said Harry. Truth was, it felt more like George was doing a favor for him. He looked at him "do you have someone's hand to hold tomorrow?"

"George's mouth smiled although his eyes did not and he gave the tiniest nod. "I do," he said. "I have many people, of course, but one . . . in particular. I think Fred would approve." He smiled again, slightly bigger this time. "Now please, my sister?"

And so that is why, a haf-hour later, after he had showered and changed clothes, Harry found himself standing outside Ginny's closed bedroom door almost as nervous as the day he had to battle a dragon.

He took a deep breath, feeling a little stupid for his nerves. _It's Ginny,_ he reminded himself for the third time. He was about to knock on her door when it opened and Ginny rushed out of her room, almost running right into Harry.

He grabbed her by the arms to stop them from crashing into each other and she looked at him in surprise.

"Harry, what are you . . . I thought I'd be the first one up. I wanted to get into the shower before anyone else. " She looked him up and down. "But you look like you may have beaten me to the hot water."

"It's a magical house," Harry pointed out. "I think there's always plenty of hot water."

"Yeah, but if you aren't first, you have to keep casting reheating spells in the middle. It's kind of . . . distracting." For some reason, Ginny blushed. "Umm, why are you waiting outside my door?"

"Oh, right. Yeah. I wanted to talk to you. In private. If that's okay."

Ginny looked at him uncertainly. "Okay," she said. She backed up into her room and Harry followed, shutting the door.

Ginny sat on her bed, up by her pillow and Harry perched at the other end. Then he looked at her and then at the space between them. "Umm, maybe I should . . ." he gestured awkwardly at the middle of the bed and scooted across at the same time until he was sitting about a foot from Ginny.

"Umm, hi," he said.

Ginny looked at him, bemused. "Hi," she said back.

"I umm, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about Fred. I don't remember if I told you that already, but I'm really, really sorry. Actually, more than sorry of course, that word doesn't really convey . . . devastated is more like it. I mean, I know it's not the same as for all of you, but I liked Fred. Like a brother. Loved him even, in a way, and I'm . . . " he trailed off, feeling like an idiot.

"I know, Harry," said Ginny gently. Her eyes were sad.

"George sent me to talk to you," he blurted out.

"You didn't want to on your own?" He heard the sadness in her voice now, mixing with confusion.

"I was going to," said Harry hurriedly. "I've been wanting to since, well, all year actually." He wasn't sure he was making sense; of course he couldn't have come to her room to talk to her before three days ago. "But I wasn't sure if it would be too soon to talk about it. Before the funeral, I mean. But then George told me it was okay. Ordered me up here, actually. To hold your hand."

"You came up here to hold my hand?" Ginny still sounded confused, but now there was an undercurrent of amusement in her tone as well.

"Well, technically, I think I'm supposed to hold your hand tomorrow. And you'll hold mine, right?" He couldn't keep the sudden feeling of vulnerability out of his voice, created, he suspected, by the fear that he was making a complete bollux of things.

"I don't think I could get through tomorrow without you."

Harry looked at Ginny then and saw a million things in her face. Sadness and pain, yes, but also determination and that blazing look he craved and that he had dreamed about nearly every night of the horrible past year.

"I don't think I can get through forever without you." The words slipped out before he really stopped to think what he was saying, but when he examined them, he knew they were true. As were the next ones. "I'm in love with you, Ginny."

Ginny's eyes were bright, with hope and unshed tears. "I know," she said simply. "Because I'm in love with you."

Harry's heart thumped at her answer and he couldn't keep the smile completely off his face. Ginny saw him struggling and gave him the first real grin he'd seen from her in over a year.

"It's okay to be happy, too, Harry," she said. "Of all people, I think Fred would get the biggest kick out knowing that we were using 'honoring his memory' as an excuse to have fun."

Harry scooted a little closer on the bed and took her hand. "Do you think we should wait until after tomorrow though?" He didn't want to do this wrong.

"Harry, I really don't think George would have sent you up here to _hold my hand_ if he thought you really needed to wait until after tomorrow to, you know, _hold my hand,_ " Ginny's voice held more than a hint of suggestion in it and Harry felt a sudden jolt of heat between his legs.

"And I'm sure Fred would take the mickey out of me for thinking I needed to wait on his behalf," he said, swallowing hard. Harry's thigh was pressed right up against Ginny's, and now he twisted her sideways and pulled her legs across his lap.

"We wouldn't want that," said Ginny softly. Her face was very close to his.

Harry closed the space between them with a tentative kiss. He pulled back immediately to gauge Ginny's reaction. It was one thing to joke about what Fred might want from them and quite another to actually _do_ it. Harry didn't want Ginny to regret anything tomorrow.

"It's really okay, Harry. I want this." A hint of a blush stained her cheeks. "I've wanted this for a long time."

Back in Harry's Sixth Year they hadn't had time for more than a few stolen kisses and cuddles underneath various trees at Hogwarts. While Harry's body had sometimes wanted other things, he had always kept those urges, and the physical reaction they caused, carefully hidden. At sixteen, with the weight of the world literally sitting on his shoulders, Harry had just been able to manage it. Now he suspected that it was going to be a lot more difficult to stick to just kissing, even though his head and his heart knew that was all either of them could handle right now. Damn that his body was not on the same emotional page.

He leaned forward again, this time cupping the back of Ginny's neck with his hand to pull her closer. She turned her head just enough so they fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Then she opened her mouth against his lips and Harry couldn't hide his groan. He opened his mouth too and was transported back to those few lovely, sunlit days he had been sure for the past year had been lost forever.

When Harry finally pulled away again, to rest his forehead against Ginny's, they were both out of breath. Sometime during their kiss Ginny had moved further onto Harry's lap and now she sat sideways in the circle of his legs, her bum resting against the erection he absolutely could not hide.

"Sorry about my . . . sorry," he mumbled, gesturing weakly between them. "It um, kind of has a mind of its own."

"I have six . . . five . . . brothers, Harry," Ginny said. She shivered, and for a moment, Fred was back in the room. Ginny took a deep breath.

"I think it would make me a little worried if that didn't happen, when we kissed," she continued. "You just told me you love me. What would it mean if you didn't get . . . one of those while we were sitting on my bed, kissing?"

"That I'm a bigger mess than I thought," said Harry ruefully. "But don't worry. I suspect that I'm going to have the opposite problem, and I'm going to start getting . . . one of those at wholly inappropriate times from now on. Thank Merlin for robes."

"I'll do my best to drive you crazy then," said Ginny solemnly.

"You already do," replied Harry, pulling her in for another kiss.


	2. Pajamas

Harry fingers did not seem to work as he tried to button up his dress robes and smooth down his hair. The thought of what he was doing, getting dressed for Remus and Tonks' funeral, felt as unreal to him as Fred's had been the day before.

As promised, it had been horrible.

Granted, everyone had tried, tried almost too much, to make the service feel like Fred. There were attempts at jokes, sarcastic comments, fireworks, and charmed Bludgers with Fred's face on them that hovered on either side of the enormous flower arrangements at the front of the field where everyone gathered. George tried the hardest of all; Harry could barely watch him at first, standing in his magenta Wheezes robes, trying to make small talk before the service started. When Angelina Johnson arrived, she made a beeline for George and enveloped him in an enormous hug. He melted into her, took her hand, and did not let it go the rest of the afternoon, even when he got up to give his eulogy.

Harry understood, given that he didn't want to be more than a foot or two away from Ginny. She obviously felt the same way, alternately sobbing into his shoulder and squeezing his hand so tightly it went numb. He didn't care; Ginny had lost her _brother_ for Merlin's sake, and Harry felt like he would have done almost anything to take away the pain he saw etched on every redheaded face around him.

Afterwards, he just wanted to walk, and they circled the Weasley's property at least a dozen times, barely speaking. He could see George sitting with Angelina up by Fred's headstone. At one point, Harry saw that she had conjured a sleeping bag and pillows; apparently George was not going to let Fred spend his first night in the ground alone.

Harry slept in Ron's room. He gave Ginny a soft kiss and then held her for a long time before going upstairs, and then he lay awake for a long time.

And then the next day, they had to do it again.

Harry dressed in a fog, held Ginny to apparate her to the cemetery where the service would be held, and stared at the crowd of mourners without really seeing any of them. The day before, almost his entire focus had been on Ginny and making sure he gave her whatever she needed. Today, he couldn't keep his eyes off the tiny bundle in the arms of Andromeda Tonks. The ache of recognition for his godson, now preparing to grow up without parents, was at first unbearable.

Ginny watched Harry watching little Teddy. "He's got people who love him; adore him," she whispered quietly. "It's not going to be the same."

Harry nodded automatically. "I know," he murmured. But he still couldn't shake the lump in his throat.

A wizard from the Auror office who had worked closely with Tonks gave her eulogy. It was personal and warm and even funny in places. Harry knew he was going to miss Tonks and her blunt way of speaking, her clumsiness, her fierce devotion to her friends and family.

And then it was his turn. Ginny turned to look as he stood up; he hadn't told anyone his role today. He strode to the front of the crowd and stood at the podium, gathering his thoughts. Suddenly, a small cry from the front row intruded on the silence. Harry saw a tiny arm waving out of the blankets, and he knew exactly what to say. When he began, he spoke entirely to Teddy.

 _Your dad, he was one of the smartest, kindest, and most loyal men I ever met. He was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher I ever had; I would have probably not made it through my third year of school if not for him._

 _He had his faults, as everyone does, but he learned from his mistakes and was a better man for them, afterwards. And he loved your mum and loved you, more than anything._ Harry had to stop here for a moment, willing himself not to cry, not yet. What he had to say was too important. After a few silent, deep breaths, he continued.

 _I know how . . . unfair . . . this is all going to seem to you when you are older. Losing both your mum and dad at the same time, is, well . . . I promise that you and I will sit down and have many long talks about that. As many as you want. I'll buy you your first butterbeer. And tell you about girls._ Harry heard a few watery chuckles then and it made it easier to continue.

 _The thing is, Teddy, is that your parents understood better than most how important it was that you grow up in a world free from fear and evil.. Your dad, he was not a fighter by nature, but he took up this fight so that you won't have to. And I know for an absolute fact that he is watching you, right now, and he will be for every minute of your life. I promise that you will never have to wonder about him, because there are so many people here right now who knew him and knew your mum, and who are going to make sure that you are loved and adored for every second of your life._

Harry gave up in his attempts not to cry. He felt a soft hand in his and saw that Ginny had come up to stand next to him. He squeezed her hand. "Loved and adored for every second," he repeated, thankful that Ginny had known to put those words in his thoughts.

Afterwards Harry went through the motions of talking and hugging and crying. The minutes he spent holding Teddy were the only ones that felt real to him, and he knew he was going to be spending a lot of time with the boy.

Finally, they were all back at the Burrow. Molly threw herself into setting up an enormous dinner; no one had really eaten much in the past few days. Harry wasn't sure anyone felt like eating now, but he also knew it really didn't matter. George walked back up to sit by Fred's grave with Angelina. They were levitating a large cardboard box between them and for some reason, it made Harry feel the tiniest bit hopeful. Charlie was deep in discussion with his father and Percy was walking around mending all the bits and pieces of the Burrow that had been damaged over the past year. Hermione and Ron were nowhere to be found.

Harry and Ginny were setting up tables outside when he a movement out of the corner of his eye made him grab his wand and whirl around. But it was just Bill and Fleur, his arm tight around her shoulder, walking quickly towards the darkest part of the Weasley's orchard. Harry watched them for a long minute until they had entirely disappeared from sight. They weren't walking to the Apparition point; Harry remembered Mrs. Weasley saying that she wanted everyone staying over at the Burrow for a couple of nights. He imagined what they might be getting up to, but he wasn't certain until Ginny came up next to him.

"There was about a half hour, before you came . . . back," she said quietly. "At Hogwarts. Bill couldn't find Fleur anywhere. It turns out she was in the greenhouses, trying to get a couple of villagers from Hogsmede untangled from a huge pot of Devil's Snare. But until he found her . . ." Ginny voice trailed off ; she didn't need to say anymore about the depth of horror Bill must have felt.

"He hasn't left her alone since then, but I don't think they have really had the chance to, you know, _be alone,_ " she continued. And since my mum wants us all to stay here tonight . . ."

"I get it," said Harry quickly. "The entire first year of their marriage has been hell. They deserve some release." He kissed Ginny on the forehead. "I know we talked the other night about, you know, _honoring Fred's memory_ and all, but I'm not sure how to . . . with Hermione in your room, and you mum, and well, everything." He swallowed, "I want to, though. And we will. I mean, we will do . . . things. I don't mean everything. But some things. Soon."

Ginny smiled. "I know, Harry. I waited a whole year. I can wait a couple more days. Especially now that I know that you are actually going to come home to me."

Harry couldn't help kissing her, really kissing her, right there. They were still wrapped around each other when George and Angelina came down from the hill, holding hands. They were actually laughing quietly about something and George seemed more comfortable than Harry had seen him in days. He caught Harry's eye and raised his one eyebrow in a look of mock surprise.

"That looks like more than just holding her hand, Potter," George muttered as they walked by. "Good job."

Dinner was a subdued, but not depressed, affair. Everyone told their favorite stories about Fred and Fleur and Bill emerged from the trees just in time for pudding. Harry felt relaxed for the first time in as long as he could remember and when he kissed Ginny goodnight outside her door, it was rather less chaste than the previous evening's kiss had been.

An hour later, he was trying to fall asleep in Ron's room, but his thoughts kept drifting. He remembered the feel of Ginny's arms around him, and how it felt to kiss her, and what they might do if they were to sneak off into the orchard one night like Bill and Fleur. Before he knew it, he was hard, and he hadn't even touched himself or thought of anything particularly sexy.

Harry swallowed. Ron was only feet away from him and Harry doubted his understanding about the fact that Harry and Ginny were together would extend to leaving the room so that Harry could have a proper wank. He tried to think of something else – anything else – but to be honest, he didn't want to stop thinking about Ginny. The kisses they had shared in her room were tormenting him; _they had been lying on her bed!_ But despite his arousal, he meant what he'd told her earlier, that he thought they should wait until they weren't at the Burrow until they did anything. They were not married; Harry didn't doubt at all how much Ginny's parents liked him, but still, it made sense to wait.

Except that his body had other ideas and these ideas would not let Harry sleep. After considering for half a second whether it would be possible to either wank right there in complete silence or to set a few privacy charms without Ron knowing what was going on, he quickly rolled out of bed.

"Loo," he muttered, siding out of the room so that Ron couldn't see his condition.

Instead of the full bathroom on the Weasley's second floor, Harry headed instead for the first floor powder room Mr. Weasley had finally added to the house after his recent promotion. It was tucked in a private corner between the kitchen proper and the pantry, and it had the advantage of usually being empty, because everyone in the family generally tended to forget it was even there. Harry was quite confident he would not be interrupted, sneaking down there in the middle of the night.

Except that, when he got to the kitchen, Harry could see a low, flickering light and a figure moving around. He froze for a second until the figure moved into the light and Harry could see long, red hair. _Ginny._

He watched her for a long second, moving closer, until he stood behind the kitchen counter that jutted out into the room like an L. She was rummaging through the refrigerator, and he saw her pull out a bowl of the berry trifle Molly had made. _Fred's favorite._

Ginny dipped her finger in the bowl and pulled out a strawberry covered in cream. As she popped it in her mouth, she looked up and saw Harry. Her eyes opened and she swallowed quickly, a smile growing on her face.

"Hi," she said softly. She gestured to the bowl. "I was a little hungry."

"You're always a little hungry," Harry grinned. He moved a little further behind the counter.

"Why are you down here? Do you want some trifle?" Ginny held out the bowl.

"Umm, I just came down for some water," Harry improvised. "Ron was snoring and I couldn't sleep." Ginny put the bowl down and filled a cup with water, walking across the kitchen towards him. Harry involuntarily took another step into the shadow of the counter.

Ginny's face wrinkled in confusion. She stopped about four feet from him, holding out the water. "Don't you want it?" she asked.

 _Oh please, I definitely want it,_ thought Harry. He tried to subtly adjust himself while he thought up an excuse as to why he wasn't walking over to get the cup of water, and probably kiss Ginny at the same time. "I umm, actually, I don't really need the water," he said hastily.

"Harry, are you okay?" Ginny took another step towards him; she was almost close enough to touch.

"I'm wearing pajamas!" Harry said quickly.

"So? I am too," said Ginny. "It's after midnight. I suspect everyone in the family is probably wearing pajamas."

"No, it's not that. But they are . . . I mean, they don't . . . I can't" Harry fumbled with his explanation while Ginny waited silently. Finally, he gave up the truth. "Pajamas don't hold anything . . . in," he said, feeling his face flame. "And I'm, umm. I'm hard." He mumbled the last word and wished he could fall through the floor.

But instead of being embarrassed along with him, Ginny gave Harry a shy smile. "Because of me?" she asked. "Did you get that way because you were thinking of me?"

"Well, yeah," said Harry. "It's always because I'm thinking of you." Despite the embarrassing nature of this conversation, Harry's arousal was not fading. If anything, it was getting stronger. He shifted behind the counter, adjusting himself again.

"Always?" Ginny's voice was fascinated. She had moved closer to him and Harry could see her eyes were dilated despite the dim light. Her glance shifted for a fraction of a second, to the place where Harry's lower half still hid behind the counter. She took another step closer. "What do you do, when you think of me?"

Harry felt like all the air had gone out of the room. Something was changing between them; he didn't want to be embarrassed anymore. He took a deep breath before answering.

"I . . . touch myself, when I think of you," he said. He moved towards the edge of the counter, not fully in the open, but so that Ginny could see one hip. "That's what I was coming downstairs to do tonight," he admitted. "Because I was lying in Ron's room thinking about you and going crazy."

"I've been going crazy too," Ginny said softly. She was right in front of him now and she grabbed both of his hands and pulled him to stand right in front of her.

Harry couldn't help himself. He stepped forward and took Ginny's face in his hands before giving her a deep kiss. The arousal he had been trying to hide skimmed her belly and she made a low noise, deep in her throat. Harry stepped closer, pressing himself to her, and groaned with relief.

The kissed for several minutes and it felt so good Harry didn't know how he could ever stop. But then Ginny took his hand and led him towards the sitting room. "Hermione is in my room. I think," she said.

"You think?"

Ginny shrugged. "It's quite possible she snuck up to see my brother," she said. "I caught them trying to get up there before dinner, until my mom found them when she was looking for the extra set of tablecloths."

"Then I'm really, really relieved I came down here, then," said Harry.

"I think you need to stay for a while," agreed Ginny.

They walked into the sitting room. Harry had only ever seen it full of Weasleys and noise, but now he could appreciate the cozy sofa and fireplace. The wide open doorway was more of a problem though.

Ginny pointed at it nonchalantly and muttered a spell that Harry had never heard before; he could have sworn it included the word "Christmas" in it. When he looked quizzically at her, she grinned.

"It's a spell mum invented, to keep us out of the sitting room while she and dad wrapped presents." Her voice grew a little sly. "Although, I think that over the years, various of my brothers have used it for other purposes, when they needed privacy."

"Brilliant," Harry breathed. He could see the ward, and he could still see into the kitchen beyond, but he had no desire to go there.

"It combines a mild compulsion charm to keep people on the other side of the ward, and also makes the room look empty," Ginny explained. "We should have plenty of privacy."

"Not the mention the fact that it's one in the morning," Harry pointed out. He was finished talking about wards and the clock, though, and he tugged on Ginny's hand until they both tumbled together onto the wide couch. Whether by accident or fortuitous design, Harry's erection fit itself neatly into the notch of Ginny's hip as they spread out long, facing each other on the cushions.

He looked at her and smiled. "Well, hi."

She smiled back. "Hi."

The air between them felt heavy and every fiber of Harry's being was tingling. When he moved his head to kiss her, she responded by snuggling closer and rolling from her side to her back, bring Harry along with her. Suddenly, his erection, which had been fairly content with the pressure of Ginny's hip, was positioned between her legs and the sensation was the most glorious thing Harry had felt yet.

He stared down at Ginny. "Did you mean to . . . umm . . . is this okay?"

Ginny answered him by wrapping her arms around his back and thrusting upwards lightly. "Mmmm, more than okay," she said, rather breathlessly. "Is it okay with you?"

Harry barked out a short laugh. "There is nothing about this that is merely 'okay,'" he said. He pushed himself into her. "Taking care of myself, in the loo, now that's okay." He thrust again. "This is fantastic." He kissed her more deeply, loving the way that his arousal felt every time he shifted position.

"I didn't know it would feel so good for me," said Ginny contentedly. Her eyes were closed and she was pushing up into him with rhythmic thrusts. Harry let her take the lead down there; he was busy trailing kisses across her jaw and to her neck, when Ginny moved her hands to his bum and pushed him into her, harder than before. She bent her knees on either side of him, and Harry slid more tightly against her.

All thoughts of kissing flew out of Harry's head. He couldn't help thrusting into her with more pressure and she rose to meet him. Vaguely, it occurred to him that but for the thin fabric of their pajamas, they might have been actually . . . doing a lot more, and the thought pushed him closer to the edge.

It had come on fast. Harry had never considered that he could be brought to the edge of climax while still clothed, and without anyone or anything touching his penis, but here he was. Ginny was making soft but intense sounds underneath him and their bodies were connected at dozens of points and everything felt so good, Harry just let himself go.

He couldn't even cry out a warning before he came, warm fluid spurting onto their pajamas and his stomach, and Ginny's, where their shirts had ridden up.

Ginny started in surprise, her eyes flying open as she gave one last thrust herself. "Did you just . . .? I mean, obviously you did."

Harry buried his face in her neck. "Yes," he mumbled. "I couldn't wait."

He felt Ginny chuckle beneath him. "That's brilliant!"

Harry looked up at her "It was? But you didn't . . . I mean, I should have been able to last longer."

Ginny kissed him. "You will next time," she said confidently. "I mean, for the first time without . . . umm, without taking care of it yourself, I thought it was pretty amazing. It felt really good," she ended, a little shyly.

"Do you want me to try to . . ." Harry gestured between their legs, not exactly sure what he was offering.

"Oh. No, you don't . . ." Ginny began. She reached up to kiss him. "I don't think I'm ready for that," she said. "I'm feeling good right now."

Harry nodded, both relieved and a little disappointed. "I'm feeling good too. I just wanted to make sure you didn't need anything."

Ginny giggled. "Girls aren't like blokes," she said. "We don't 'need' as much as you do." She put her hand on his cheek and turned his head so she could look in his eyes. "But I want to soon."

Harry nodded and let his head fall back onto Ginny's shoulder. He was feeling very sleepy now.

"D'ya think Hermione is out of Ron's room by now?" Wards or not, he suspected that falling asleep here on the sofa with Ginny would be a very bad idea.

"If not, I'll be you one Stinging Hex we can get her out of there quickly," said Ginny.

Harry rolled off the couch and took her hand to pull her up too. "It's a deal."


	3. At Hogwarts

A week after Fred's funeral they all went back to Hogwarts. It had been George's idea, actually. Everyone had been sitting at breakfast in varying states of wakefulness – it was one of the first days no one had any real concrete plans and they all seemed to be taking advantage. Ron had had a lie-in and now was complaining petulantly that Percy had taken the largest pancake. Bill and Fleur were feeding each other bits of toast with their fingers. Ginny was eating her eggs whilst still in her pajamas and Harry was pleasantly distracted from his own plate by the strip of Ginny's skin he could see where the collar of her oversized t-shirt stretched out almost to her shoulder. Just a few inches below that skin were Ginny's breasts, and Harry was lazily considering how soon and where he might be able to see those breasts, when his thoughts were interrupted.

"Harry, d'you still have the map?"

Harry started and flushed. For a second, he thought George was talking about the map to a witch's anatomy that had made the rounds in Harry's Fifth year, flashing diagrams and all.

"Uhh, map?" he finally stuttered. His brain cleared. "Ohh, the Map. The Marauder's Map from my dad, you mean."

George nodded seriously. "That one," he affirmed. Then he quirked an eyebrow and his eyes dragged from Harry's face over to his sister. "Is there another map I should know about?"

Too late, Harry remembered exactly who had given him and Ron the diagram fifth year. "No, no other maps," he said hastily. "Yeah, of course I still have my dad's map. It's up in my room." He looked at Ron and Hermione. Only they had an idea about how much time he had spent during the prior year watching Ginny's dot on it while hunting Horcruxes. "But you know, it only works at Hogwarts."

George nodded. "I was thinking, it's about time we take a visit back. They probably need a lot of help, rebuilding and all."

"You want to go back to Hogwarts?" George's comment had been surprising enough even to pull Bill's lips away from their current location at Fleur' neck. Now he looked at his younger brother. "Are you sure?" he asked carefully.

George nodded again. "Very sure," he said resolutely. "There are certain . . . things . . . that need to be included in the rebuilding of the school. Things Fred would have liked," he added.

"I think that's a great idea," said Hermione with enthusiasm. "Hogwarts is magical right down to its very foundation and grounds. Imagine the opportunities we'll have to practice the complex spells and charms needed to rebuild! I think there is a list of enchantments that have previously been put on the school in Hogwarts, A History. I'll make sure to bring my copy."

Next to her, Ron groaned in mock annoyance. "Why am I not surprised you're looking at this as a way to get us to study more?" he said.

"Maybe you can help Hermione enchant a broom closet," said Ginny cheekily. She gave Harry a grin. "You want to go back, don't you?"

"Of course I do," said Harry. "I bet there is a lot of work to do." He hoped his face didn't give anything away. Of course he wanted to help rebuild the place that had been his one true home for so many years. But in the back of his mind, he was also remembering a number of particularly happy hours he and Ginny had spent in his 6th year, exploring some of the more secluded areas of the grounds. He'd kind of like to explore them again with her.

Within the hour, everyone had finished eating, dressed, and Apparated to Hogsmede. The village itself had survived the battle mostly intact, but they were not far along the path up to the school before they began seeing signs of destruction. Enormous trees felled by giants still lay in their way and parts of the ground looked burned. They took turns levitating and blasting away the blockages and following Fleur's directions to plant new bushes and grass in their place.

But at the gates of Hogwarts, they couldn't help but stop. Harry knew he was not the only one overcome with memories. Had it really been only a few weeks since that terrible night? He couldn't move his eyes anywhere without seeing images from the battle – the place Neville had stood and defied Voldemort, the front steps, slick with blood, the start of the path he had taken to walk alone into his death.

Almost as if it was pulled there by a magnet, his eyes were drawn to a section of second floor wall that was blasted away in one of the wings. George was looking at it too, his mouth set in a tight line. "That's where . . .?" he asked quietly.

Ron nodded, walking up to put his arm around his brother's shoulder. "It is," he confirmed. "Should we . . . d'you want to go there?"

George nodded. "Can you all come with me?

And so they walked into the castle. They weren't the only ones there; it appeared the rebuilding process was just beginning, and their group waved to classmates and professors who were working to clear corridors and classrooms. They said hello to Hannah Abbot and Neville who were standing over the shattered house hourglasses, saying the spells to collect the colored gems that lay scattered along the floor.

Somewhere along the way, Angelina joined them, jogging up to George and taking his hand.

In that upstairs hallway, everyone stopped. The corridor was much as Harry remembered it – filled with rubble and dust, a gaping hole in the wall looking out over the grounds. He could see the niche where Percy and Ron had carried Fred's body to get it out of harm's way and he had to close his eyes for a second against the memories. Next to him, Ginny made a small sound of distress and buried her head in Harry's chest.

George took a couple of steps forward and fell to his knees. Angelina wrapped her arms around him and spoke quietly into his ear. Harry couldn't hear what she said, but after a minute, George nodded and stood up. He roughly wiped the tears from his face before kissing Angelina lightly and turning to the rest of them.

"Okay, let's get this corridor cleaned up and rebuilt," he said thickly. "For Fred."

"For Fred," they all responded, and set to work.

In a short amount of time, the boulders were gone, the walls and windows rebuilt, and a new suit of armor stood in the niche. Harry wouldn't have thought that it was possible, but the face on the armor actually seemed to leer down at them with a rackish grin. George spent extra minutes next to it, and when he stepped away, a new plaque gleamed in the stone.

 _In memory of Fred Weasley, who died laughing. May all who need to find happiness find it here._

Ron walked closer. "That's great, George," he said. "Is that . . . is the armor giving a thumbs up?" He reached out and touched the metal and his face split into a wide grin. "Makes me happy," he said with a chuckle. A second later he snorted. "It tickles!" he jumped back, wiggling and laughing. "Brilliant!"

George nodded in satisfaction. "The Fred Weasley Memorial Hall of Laughter is now complete," he said. He looked around. "Each of you needs to try it before you leave."

One by one, each of them walked up and touched the armor's thumb. Harry felt immediately joyful. He grinned at Ginny and then yelped when the sensation of a dozen tiny hands tickling him coursed across his skin.

"That is really advanced magic," said Hermione. She looked rather flushed and Harry wondered exactly where the charm had tickled her.

"Where should we go next?" asked Ginny. "There is so much to do."

Harry had been thinking about that. "I wonder what happened to the Room of Requirement," he said. "Do you think it survived the Fiend Fyre?"

"We should check it out," said Ron. "I bet it will need a lot of advanced magic to fix, right Hermione?" He knocked his hip against hers.

Hermione blushed. "I'd imagine so," she said.

The four of them said goodbye to George and the rest and trooped up to the seventh floor.

The outward damage in this corridor was minimal, but the tapestry that had formerly hung on the wall was gone; only a few charred scraps remained attached to the metal bar hanging at the top of the wall. They all looked at it grimly, remembering the last time they had been there.

"What should we ask the room to do?" said Ron.

"I think we should start simple and just ask to see if it still works," said Hermione. She looked at Harry. "Why don't you do it?"

So Harry walked back and forth three times, thinking to himself, "I want to see the Room of Requirement" in his head. On the third pass, to his immense relief, a door appeared. It was small and wooden and singed around the frame and Harry was oddly nervous to open it. Telling himself that it couldn't be all that bad, he walked up and turned the handle.

Inside the door was a great, empty stone room, smelling faintly of smoke. The stone itself was gray and looked new; there was no sign of any of the broken furniture and other discarded trash that had been deposited there for decades, nor could Harry see any hint that the room had housed and protected members of Dumbledore's Army the previous year. The room seemed to be almost holding its breath, waiting for something.

"I think it will be okay," said Hermione. "But it's going to take some time to put the magic back entirely." She frowned in concentration. "I think . . . I think the Room can only be rebuilt by the combined efforts of different people using it for their needs. We can't force it to be what we want, it has to happen organically."

"Maybe . . . . maybe we should each take turns," said Harry. "Asking the Room to do something for us. And we can get everyone else to add their own requirements too."

Hermione was nodding. "That is a good idea," she said. "I think the combined efforts of a large and varied group of people would do the trick. And we can bring any unusable junk from the cleanup to deposit here, to start rebuilding that particular room." She looked at Ron. "Should we go first?" She blushed just a little.

Ron nodded quickly. "Definitely," he said. "I can think of a couple of things I want to do with . . ." he stopped, realizing that Harry and Ginny were right there. "Umm, maybe you both have somewhere else to help for a while?"

Harry had the perverse urge to say no, that he and Ginny would enjoy seeing whatever Ron came up with for the Room. But he realized that if Ron and Hermione were occupied here, there was an entire expanse of Hogwarts grounds where they would not be. He grabbed Ginny's hand. "Good idea," he said. "I think Ginny and I will . . . umm, go see what they need outside."

Not waiting for an answer, he pulled his girlfriend out of the room and down the hall.

"Where do you want to go?" she asked. Harry noted that her steps were as quick as his were.

"Outside," he said quickly. "I have an idea."

Ginny squeezed his hand. "I tend to like your ideas," she said.

They walked quickly through the entrance hall. Neville and Hannah had repaired all of the hourglasses; they shimmered brightly on the wall as if they had never been anywhere else. The hall was otherwise empty and Harry was glad not to have to stop and make small talk with anyone.

They managed to get down to the lake without interruption. The grounds here had not seen much action and were quiet and peaceful. Harry didn't speak either as he led Ginny around the bank, past a small copse of trees and bushes, until any view of the castle was quite obscured. Only then did he turn to look at her.

"Is this okay?" he asked. "It's where we used to come my sixth year," he said rather needlessly.

"I remember," said Ginny solemnly. There was no hint of a smile on her face but Harry heard her breathing quicken.

"Thinking about us then," Harry began, moving closer and wrapping his arms around her. "Those memories, I mean. They are pretty much the only thing that got me through last year." He gave her a soft kiss and felt her tremble. "It gave me a purpose," he said, kissing her more firmly. "I wanted to get back to you. To this."

He couldn't say anything more then, because Ginny grabbed the back of Harry's neck and pulled him to her with a groan. She kissed him so deeply and thoroughly that Harry nearly swayed from lack of oxygen; he didn't mind at all. When they finally pulled apart, he smiled at her before stepping back to conjure a thick blanket for the ground. Another wave of his wand and Harry had set every privacy and silencing charm he knew around the space.

Ginny was smiling at him with every part of her face. She licked her lips as she looked at him and it was almost Harry's undoing right there. He gestured to the blanket. "D'you want to . . . umm . . .?" he began.

"Yes," said Ginny simply and lowered herself to a sitting position on the ground.

Harry dropped down next to her and leaned in for another kiss. It grew heated and Harry pulled Ginny into his lap and then shifted them both so they were lying down facing each other. One of Ginny's legs was hooked over Harry's hip and he couldn't stop himself from grinding into her. He found the underside of Ginny's t-shirt and tickled his hands up her back. She shuffled a bit so she was lying more or less on her back, and in one fluid movement, grabbed the bottom of her shirt to pull it over her head.

Harry forgot to breathe. Back in his sixth year, he had touched Ginny under the front of her shirt a couple of times, but it had always been dark and she had always been mostly dressed. Now she reached behind her back and gave a little tug and suddenly, her bra was lying loosely on her otherwise bare chest.

With slow movements in case she stopped him – although he was pretty confident she wouldn't – Harry reached towards the scrap of fabric and gently prized it down her arms and away.

Ginny's breasts were perfect. Better than he had imagined during any of his fantasies about them, and they had figured into Harry's fantasies quite a bit. He cupped his hand around one and was delighted to see it fit perfectly into his palm, the warm weight quivering lightly beneath him. He brushed his thumb across Ginny's nipple and it immediately hardened.

Ginny arched her back and hissed and Harry felt and answering thump between his legs. He chucked off his own shirt and lowered his head to Ginny's chest to kiss and tease. She fisted her hands in his hair and moaned, moving his head back and forth from one breast to the other. Harry let her lead; he scooted his body so that instead of lying next to her he was more or less on top, his arousal fitting into the notch in her hip. It was familiar territory; they had done something similar in her parent's sitting room, but now, knowing they were completely alone and feeling the skin of Ginny's chest press against his, Harry's excitement grew quickly. He thrust a couple of times and Ginny rose up to meet him until suddenly, she gave him a little push and rolled him off of her.

"Wha . . . What? Too much?" he asked quickly. "I'm sorry, Ginny. I thought . . . since we had already . . . I mean," he babbled helplessly until Ginny giggled at him and put her finger gently across his lips.

"It's fine, Harry. Better than fine," she said. "I just thought . . ." she looked down for a moment, a blush staining her cheeks.

Harry lifted her chin. "You thought what?" he asked quietly.

Ginny took a deep breath. "I thought that maybe this time, I could, umm, touch you." Her blush deepened. "Under your trousers," she said in a rush.

"Really?" Harry asked. He was already mentally taking them off.

Ginny nodded, a little more forcefully this time. "I know it's light out," she said apologetically.

Harry was confused. "What does that have to do with . . ." he began. Ginny's hand was hovering above the waistband of his jeans and Harry understood. "You want to see it," he said. "It wasn't a question.

"I do," Ginny agreed. She bit her lip. "If you don't mind."

"I don't mind," said Harry quickly. "I'd umm, I'd really like it." Feeling bold, he grabbed Ginny's hand and moved it to the button of his jeans. "You can take them off, if you want."

Ginny carefully undid Harry's button and pulled down the zipper. Harry saw her take a deep breath and then she tugged the fabric over his hips and pulled them down past his ankles and then off. He lay back on the blanket clad only in his boxers and watched Ginny study him.

Harry supposed he should feel embarrassed, but he just couldn't muster the emotion. It was incredibly arousing, watching Ginny look at him. She swallowed hard and reached out slowly to lay her hand over the growing bulge between his legs. Harry bucked his hips and Ginny sucked in her breath.

"That's umm, that's . . . wow," she said thickly. She was sitting up at his waist now and scooted herself even closer. "Can I . . .?" she asked, her hand hovering around Harry's waist.

"Yes please," he said thickly. He raised his hips off the blanket when Ginny pulled his boxers carefully over his erection and slid them off. And then Harry was naked and hard and his girlfriend was leaning over him, her hair tickling across his thighs. Ginny's lower lip was caught in her teeth and her eyes were dilated with want as she reached out to him again. This time, she stroked gently once, twice, and then took him firmly in her hand and pushed down.

"Like this?" she asked.

"YESSS," Harry breathed. "However you want. Do . . . whatever you want." He closed his eyes, giving into the sensation.

Ginny's second hand joined her first and they moved together, one on top of the other. The first slid down his shaft to be immediately replaced at the top with the other and the pressure was delicious torture. Harry bucked into Ginny's hands and then moved his own down to cover hers, helping them slide up and down in rhythm. He couldn't keep back a groan as Ginny quickly leaned over and kissed him before returning to her task.

Harry kept his hand over Ginny's. His movements were becoming erratic and he quickly lost control. "Oh God, Ginny, like that," he muttered. He forced his eyes open and it was his undoing. The look on Ginny's face was a mixture of intense concentration and arousal and Harry cried out as he suddenly came, spurting white over his chest and their hands. He helped Ginny pump him a few more times to finish before dropping his hands and closing his eyes again.

Ginny chuckled. "I think I'm good at this," she said with satisfaction.

"More'n good," mumbled Harry. "I really love you."

"And I love you," said Ginny. She sounded amused. "If you are planning to fall asleep now, maybe you can clean us off first?"

Harry struggled to a sitting position. "Right," he said, picking up his wand and casting a cleaning spell. "That was amazing, Gin. But I still need to . . . to . . ." his sentence was broken up by an enormous yawn. "To you," he finished with a sheepish grin. "We can now, if you want to."

Ginny smirked. "I think you can have a nap, Potter. I knew what I was getting into, taking care of you first."

Harry blushed. "You did?"

Ginny nodded. "Fleur warned me," she confirmed. "She said that I should always get what I want first. Even Bill is useless for an hour or two after he . . . you know." She smiled at him. "A nap sounds good to me too, right now. I can wait." She waggled her eyebrows. "But I'm warning you, I'll be expecting quite a lot, later on." She waved her wand and conjured a second blanket, which floated gently down to cover them both before she lay down next to Harry.

He snuggled close to her. "It's a promise," he said sleepily.


	4. MACUSA

A/N: This has nothing to do with anything other than the fact that it popped into my head and I ran with it. It is obviously not a continuation of the other chapters in this story. I will be getting back to Charming Ginny and Fleur next.

The Portkey to MACUSA took long enough that Harry was always slightly dizzy when he arrived. Today was no different, and he was glad to be the only one coming from Britain so that he had time to clear his head in private. Once his feeling of vertigo diminished, he walked down the familiar hallway to the office of Mason Dearborn, who headed up the American Aurors.

Kingsley's equivalent could not be any more different from the calm, dry-witted man Harry called his boss. Harry would not want to work for the man all the time, but Mason's gregariousness – bordering on bawdy – always portended a fun, alcohol-filled week for Harry. To Mason's great consternation, however, Harry's annual trip to MACUSA did not include any sort of debauchery other than drink. The man had been trying for years to get Harry to join in the other extra-curricular activities he arranged for the Aurors attending the meeting; a consummate bachelor, Mason simply could not understand Harry's unwavering commitment to his marriage.

"Potter! Good to see you!" Mason insisted for some reason on calling Harry by his surname, an idiosyncrasy Harry had long given up trying to change.

"You too, Mason," said Harry. He walked into the office and let the larger man slap him on the back. "I'm finally dried out from my last trip here."

Mason snorted. "We did have a good time, didn't we? I just wish you would let me make sure you had a _particularly good time_ , this week, if you know what I mean. The rest of the group is already primed to party." The head Auror shook his head. "They get younger and younger every year."

Harry laughed. "Or maybe you or I are just getting older," he said. "I'm sure Ginny wants me back in one piece, so I think I'll save the rowdier activities for the others.

Mason made a big show of looking at his watch. "48 seconds," he said with a laugh. "I think that's a record for how long it took before you mentioned your wife in conversation." The man sighed dramatically. "I just don't get it, Potter. No matter how tasty the food might be at home, everyone needs to eat out once in a while. This is the perfect opportunity. No one here really knows who you are, no one knows your wife, and we have every charm and spell at our disposal to hide any, shall we say, indiscretion you may want to enjoy?"

Harry chuckled. "You get more blatant in your attempts every year, Dearborn. I hope that someday you will believe me when I tell you that there is no other witch for me, even for a single night."

"Well maybe if you'd let me meet this witch sometime instead of going to every possible effort to keep us apart, I'd be able to judge for myself."

"Heh," said Harry. "There is a good reason you've never met Ginny. She'd have you sneezing bats out of your nose in a trice. I like you too much to subject you to that."

"So you've said," said Mason. "That won't stop me from trying. And I think maybe this year, I might have found her - that unique witch who just might be able to convince the great Harry Potter to let his inhibitions down enough to really enjoy himself for a night or two."

Harry groaned. "Again? Didn't you learn your lesson after the mess with that Californian healer?"

Mason shrugged. "What can I say? I'm the opposite of a hopeless romantic. But I think I may have done it this time. Go get some rest and then come to dinner tonight and see for yourself."

Shaking his head, Harry left MACUSA and went to his hotel. It was around dinnertime in England; not the best time to catch Ginny alone, but Harry would take what he could get.

Sure enough, the Floo connection opened not to the fireplace in their bedroom but to a kitchen scene and the general mayhem of his wife trying to feed three young children a meal at once.

"Daddy!" Lily's face loomed in front of him. "How's 'Merica? Did you get me a present?"

Harry laughed. "Not yet, Lils. I just got here. Are you and your brothers being good for mum?"

"Course," said Lily. It sounded like her mouth was full of something. "And we are all going to Hugo 'n Rose's later for a night party!" Harry couldn't help but grin as his effusive youngest child bounced away from the fireplace. Harry could hear the sounds of roughhousing and Ginny's voice admonishing something Harry could not see. A second later, she finally appeared at the Floo.

"When are you coming home again?" she said in mock annoyance.

"That bad already?" laughed Harry. "I've only been gone a couple of hours."

"Seems longer when I'm the one at home," said Ginny. "I already miss you."

"I miss you too," Harry admitted. "Mason's in rare form; says he finally found the perfect one-night stand for me."

Ginny snorted. "You really need to let me meet him," she said. "I'd set him straight right away."

"That's what I'm afraid of," said Harry. "And we need to maintain good relations with America." He sighed. "I guess you won't be around for a private Floo call later? Lily said you are going to Ron and Hermione's."

"I need all of us out of the house," Ginny affirmed. "But hopefully tomorrow? I just need to figure out the time difference."

"Sounds good," said Harry. "Wish me luck tonight."

After a nap, shower, and bracing shot of Firewhiskey in his room, Harry walked down to the fancy hotel restaurant Mason had booked for the Aurors' dinner. Even this early, the party already seemed to be getting a little rowdy. More than a dozen Aurors from various North American offices were milling around holding drinks and talking to the very attractive wizards and witches Mason had invited to liven things up. Harry wasn't sure where Mason found them; at least some were low-level MACUSA employees, he believed. He never really inquired too closely about the others.

The first year he had come, for what was to be a one-time lecture on British Auror procedure, Harry had been rather shocked at the rowdiness exhibited by the other attendees. He couldn't say that everyone there was having sex – indeed, it was unlikely that he was the only one who was married – but the relaxed atmosphere and heavy drink certainly encouraged inhibitions to fall farther than might have otherwise. Harry had taken a deep breath, gotten more than a little drunk, and stumbled back to his room to wank for Ginny in front of the Floo.

Mason had been impressed by Harry's lectures, amused by his dedication to Ginny, and challenged by the prospect of getting Harry to abandon that dedication; Harry now had a standing invitation to present at the meeting every year.

If he was being completely honest with himself, Harry had grown to look forward to whatever crazy attempts Mason made to break his monogamy. A couple of hours of being flirted with and then turning down propositions whilst drinking expensive whiskey now got Harry aroused enough that his long-distance Floo activities with Ginny had become rather unrestrained. The fact that she would not be available tonight was going to be a problem, but hopefully it would make the following evening that much better.

Harry was on his third glass of Firewhiskey and deep into conversation with two male American Aurors and the somewhat scantily dressed witches they had attached themselves to for the evening when he felt a heavy hand clamp his shoulder.

"Having fun, Harry? I have someone for you to meet." Mason already sounded a bit inebriated. Harry steeled himself to be introduced to this year's selection; the witch with whom he was going to be expected to talk and then later extricate himself from.

Harry turned around and almost swallowed his tongue. Standing next to Mason in a set of short, fitted robes she would normally not be caught dead in, eyes sparkling with mischief, was Ginny.

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it again at Ginny's look of warning. _What the hell was she planning?_

"Harry, this is . . . Polly, is it?" Mason clearly had no idea who Ginny was.

"Holly," said Ginny firmly. She gave Harry a flirtatious smile and held out her hand. "Holly Phoenix."

 _Holy hell, she'd named herself after his wand._

"Holly," said Harry thickly. He took her hand and felt a jolt of energy course through him as soon as they touched. He swallowed. "It's n. . .nice to meet you."

Ginny held his hand a beat longer than one normally might, and Harry felt that energy travel directly to his groin. "Mason has told me a lot about you."

Mason apparently interpreted Harry's stumbling to mean that he might actually be interested in the witch Mason had selected this year. "I thought you two might hit it off," he said happily. "Polly, I mean, Holly, is from your side of the pond, Harry. Ireland. She's here for a fashion convention, isn't that right? I met her yesterday, checking into the hotel and I just knew she'd be a perfect addition to our little party."

"I'm so happy to be here," Ginny said. "I'm sure Harry and I will have a good time getting to know each other."

Mason raised his eyebrows. "I bet you will, I've got a bottle of the best Firewhiskey riding on it," he said. He clapped Harry on the back again. "Dinner will be served soon. I've got you and Holly sitting at my table. We should have a wonderful time." The man wandered off, stopping to chat with a young witch Harry recognized as one of the Auror department lab technicians.

Harry took a deep breath.

"So Ireland, huh? I should have guessed, with that red hair. I've always wanted to visit Ireland." One of the Aurors Harry had been talking with now looked at Ginny, a flirting smile on his face.

Ginny nodded and matched the man's smile. "Yes, County Claire," she said with the worst attempt at an Irish accent Harry had ever heard. He had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from snorting. Of course, the Americans had no idea.

The Auror – Tom Daley, Harry thought he was called – was nodding. "And do you know Harry here? Apparently, he was a big deal in your neck of the woods at one point."

And now Ginny was looking directly at Harry with that flirtatious smile. "I have heard of him, yes," she said with a coyness Harry was sure only he could discern. "But now I'm hoping to have the chance to get to know him a lot better." She leaned forward suddenly. "Oops, you seem to have some dirt on your robes." She brushed her hand down Harry's shoulder and he could barely suppress a shudder. "That's better," she said with satisfaction.

"Th . . . thanks," stuttered Harry. He wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to breathe and talk at the same time. "Do you, uhh, do you want a drink?" he said quickly. _Anything to get some distance._

"I'd love a drink," said Ginny merrily. Harry nodded tersely and turned towards the bar when a soft hand on his arm stopped him. "Don't you want to know what I like?"

 _Drambuie neat . . . and torturing me_

"Uhhh, right. What can I get you?" Harry forced himself to look Ginny in the face and almost groaned when her tongue darted out for the briefest second.

"I'll have a Drambuie neat," said Ginny. She touched his arm again. "Actually, why don't I come with you? I want to see what a real American bar looks like." Without waiting for an answer, Ginny put her hand on Harry's back and began to steer him to the back of the room.

She prattled casually at him as they walked, mentioning how nice it was to see another Brit at the party and asking how he had arrived – Portkey or Apparition? To any casual observer, they were just another Auror and guest making small talk.

Mason materialized out of nowhere as they approached the line for the bar. "Hitting it off, are you two?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Ginny gave the man a winning smile. "I was just telling Harry here, it might be _hard_ to talk to someone new at first, but it can also be a lot of fun." She knocked her hip against Harry. "Isn't that right, Mr. Potter?"

Ginny reserved use of their last name for only their most intimate bedroom moments and for a long second, Harry found himself unable to respond. But he wanted to keep playing Ginny's game, so he took a deep breath before answering.

"Very hard," he said quietly, enjoying Ginny's intake of breath. Then he deliberately moved himself away from her. "But I have a wife," he said firmly. "And I love her very much."

"Ahh yes, the wife," said Mason in a resigned voice. "I warned Holly that you would bring her up at the first possible occasion.

 _More like the wife is bringing me up_

Ginny's face was a careful mask of casual interest but Harry suspected she knew exactly what he was thinking. She subtly adjusted the bottom of her robes – which ended around the middle of her thighs – and smiled at him.

"I'm sure she's a lovely person," said Ginny. "She's given birth to quite a few children now, hasn't she? That can have quite an effect on one's figure, I imagine. Not to mention libido."

Harry almost barked out a laugh. If anything, Ginny's sex drive had become even more pronounced during and then after each of her pregnancies. She had maintained a training schedule that was nearly as vigorous as the one she had kept up as a professional Quidditch player, a fact she had proven to Harry only the previous week, when they had both dressed in their old Hogwarts team uniforms and then peeled off only the most necessary pieces before having sex in the field behind their home.

"My wife's figure is quite lovely," Harry choked out. "As are her . . . other things." He could feel himself blush.

Ginny gave him an amused look before she shrugged and hooked her arm through his. "Well, at least we can have a _lovely_ talk at dinner then." She took the drink the bartender had made and took a sip. "Mmm, I love Drambuie," she said happily.

Harry knew this all too well. The last time Ginny had 'loved' Drambuie, she had been sucking it off his naked body. He grabbed his scotch took a deep sip and then put it back down on the bar to be refilled.

"It's especially good at room temperature," he said conversationally. "How do they describe it - about as warm as human skin, I think?" Harry was pleased to see Ginny's eyes dilate. _I can play this game too._

And then they were moving into the dining room, where Harry and Ginny were seated with Mason and the lab technician as well as Auror Daley and a witch named Liberty. Ginny scooted her chair closer to Harry on the pretense of there being a table leg in her way – truly Harry suspected that she had conjured the extra leg herself. Her bare thigh pressed up against his and not for the first time that night, Harry was more than relieved to be wearing robes.

Liberty, who seemed to be a sweet girl, if not particularly bright, was especially enjoying herself and the easy flow of liquor. She kept the conversation flowing at a rapid clip, peppering both Harry and Ginny with questions just "to hear their adorable accents." Now she was asking them about the differences between British and American language.

"So, instead of elevator, you say lift? And trash can is rubbish bin? Fascinating!" she said to general laughter at the table. Everyone seemed to be slowly devolving into a relaxed drunken state and Harry took advantage of the opportunity to press his leg more firmly against Ginny's. He rubbed it up and down before moving it away, and chuckled at her muttered 'watch it'.

Ginny tilted her head at Liberty.

"There are a lot more interesting differences in British and American words, of course. The word 'wank,' for example. Do you have a slang word for masturbating like we do?" Ginny's voice was light and friendly and accompanied almost immediately by a hearty laugh from Mason. He was moving from "gregarious" to "bawdy" and Harry braced himself.

"Oh, I knew I liked this one," he chortled. "Wanking – that's great, Holly." He looked at the other guests. "Do we have a word like that?" He elbowed Harry. "What about you Harry, do you wank? Maybe a little round with Holly later and you won't have to."

 _Oh Merlin. Would it cross a line to tell everyone that Ginny liked to watch him wank over the Floo when they were apart?_

Fortunately, Harry was still one or two dinks shy of blurting out the most intimate details of his and Ginny's sex life. He forced himself to give a casual shrug.

"Not since I was a teenager," he said with as much nonchalance as he could muster. Harry was saved from having to delve into the conversation further by the arrival of their meals, but the damage was done. He was more than a little aroused now, and starting to wonder exactly how long he wanted to let this little charade play out. Part of him wanted to excuse himself to go to the loo and hope Ginny took the hint and followed him, and part of him wanted to see just how far he could push her before he broke. Because there was absolutely no doubt in Harry's mind that he was going to be the one to give in before she did.

The second choice won, and Harry finished his meal in something of a daze, shuddering every time Ginny pressed her leg against his or touched his hand as if to make a point in whatever story she was telling.

And then they were moving to the after party in a private upstairs lounge at the hotel; it was called a hospitality suite, Harry learned, and was comprised of a comfortable sitting room equipped with a bar, flanked by two hotel rooms, the entire space bordered by a long balcony that looked out over the city.

Harry and Ginny had shared a lift with Mason and his date, who was wrapped around him rather suggestively, her hand practically at his fly.

"Now now, Aurora, not in front of Harry and Holly, I don't want Harry here to have to go wank," he said genially, pushing her hand gently away. Then he raised is eyebrows. "Unless the two of you are planning something on your own?"

 _Yes._

"I'm going to Floo call my wife," said Harry stiffly. "I . . . I miss her."

"Isn't it the middle of the night in England?" Ginny said lightly. "She's probably sound asleep." She stepped closer to Harry and trailed a finger down his arm. "What does she wear to sleep in?" she asked suggestively.

The elevator fortuitously arrived at their floor at that moment, and Harry stumbled out as quickly as he could, hoping that his robes were heavy enough, that Mason and Aurora could not see the lump pushing out at their center.

Mason did not seem to notice Harry's state, indeed, the man continued his conversation as they continued down the hall, appearing nearly oblivious to the fact that Aurora had cupped his bum and was kissing his neck as they walked.

"Really Harry, no one will think less of you if you take the opportunity presented to you tonight. Hell, we might even think more!"

"I love my wife," said Harry automatically. Truly, even trying to think of Ginny as a person separate from the woman walking next to him, as someone who was at home asleep, was becoming difficult.

Mason waved his hand dismissively. "Of course you love her," he said. "No one says you don't. But in my experience, permanent monogamy is . . . unnatural. No one can really keep it up forever. Better to get the release every so often so that you can keep things interesting at home." He looked at Ginny. "Right, Holly?"

"Right," said Ginny faintly. Harry looked at her and was gratified to see she looked nearly as flustered as he was. She saw his glance and straightened up. "I think it's healthy part of any couple's sex life to try to keep things interesting by . . . having new experiences," she said carefully. "Like . . . I don't know . . . role play, maybe?" She looked at Harry. "Do you and your wife ever role play? I heard it can be hot."

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_

"That's . . . that's rather personal," Harry managed in a choked voice. "Between Ginny and me." They had arrived at the hospitality suite and Harry stood back while Mason fumbled with the key.

"I know what else can get between Ginny and you." Her voice was low against his ear and Harry had to bite back a moan.

"Drink, I need a drink, he mumbled, pushing into the room. Behind him, he could hear Ginny laughing.

Once he was fortified with another glass of excellent scotch, Harry looked around. Not all of the attendees seemed to have made it up to the afterparty; he suspected there was already coupling going on at other locations in the hotel. Mason was sitting in a comfortable chair with Aurora draped over his lap. Harry hesitated, not really wanting to watch. "I, umm . . ." he began. He looked around. "I'm going to get a breath of air," he said quickly, nodding his head outside to the balcony.

"Mmm," said Mason. He seemed rather distracted by Aurora's lips. But just as Harry thought he was going to escape, Mason mumbled. "Maybe Holly'll want to join you." He jerked his head and Harry saw Ginny at the bar, pouring herself a healthy measure of Dambuie.

"I'm fine. Fine," Harry said. Not waiting for an answer, he hurried outside.

There was one other couple on the balcony, but by the looks of things, they were not even aware of his arrival. He took a couple of deep breaths and walked over to the railing so that he could adjust himself up against the brick wall.

"Feeling good there, Harry? I'm glad the weather warmed up." Ginny's voice was deliberately casual. Impersonal even, but Harry's breath hitched anyway.

She stood next to him against the railing, as if fascinated by the twinkling lights below them. "Pretty view," she murmured. She had moved closer.

"MmmHmmm," Harry mumbled. His entire body was tingling.

"You know," said Ginny conversationally. She might have been asking him to pass the salt. "If you took me from behind, you wouldn't even have to look at my face while we fucked. You'd barely have to touch me, even." Her voice was deliberately light and friendly.

Harry hesitated for a long second, but it was no use. He gave a quick nod. "Don't talk," he said roughly, turning towards the entrance to the balcony. "Not a single word. Just. . . come on." Not waiting for her answer, Harry jerked open the door leading off the balcony and walked quickly through the sitting room to one of the attached bedrooms. There was a roaring in his ears that almost - but not quite – masked Mason's quiet exclamation of victory as he watched Harry usher Ginny inside.

Ginny was good to her promise. Without a word, she grabbed the pillows from the head of the bed and piled them up at the end in a practiced motion before climbing up and leaning over them on all fours. Harry stood behind her and roughly undid his belt and pushed down his trousers and boxers before lifting up the back of Ginny's dress. He hissed.

 _How long had she not been wearing her knickers?_

Harry grabbed Ginny's hips and moved closer to her. His hand reached between her legs and found her clit; he rubbed it for a long second, preparing her. She moaned, and Harry knew that whether she was ready or not, he couldn't wait much longer.

It didn't matter, Ginny was wet and panting beneath him. Harry guided himself into her with a groan of relief. He tilted her hips up higher, creating an angle that allowed him to fill her completely. Rearing back, he bucked into her, hard, cursing crudely at the sensation. Ginny pushed herself back against Harry and they rocked together for a minute or two, silent but for Harry's grunts of pleasure every time he sunk into Ginny and her own mews in response.

But Harry had been going crazy with arousal from the first second Ginny had introduced herself to him, and after a few more thrusts, he came hard inside her, holding her roughly against his hips as he climaxed. He immediately moved his hand back down between them and rubbed at Ginny's clit until she shuddered and called out his name.

Harry pulled out and then wrapped his arms around Ginny, collapsing on top of her and the pillows on the bed. Almost immediately, he flipped her over onto her back and covered his body with hers.

"Needed to . . . kiss you . . . all day," he said huskily, finding her lips. In response, Ginny wrapped her arms and legs around Harry's back and kissed him back to total abandon; she obviously felt as needy for him as he did for her.

Finally they stopped to catch their breath, panting quietly against each other. "This is probably the hottest thing you've ever done," said Harry thickly. "And that's saying something."

Beneath him, Ginny chuckled. "I'm glad you liked it," she said. "Because all the Portkeys damn near killed me."

Harry kissed her again. "I hope it was worth it."

"More than worth it," said Ginny. She sounded sleepy. "Can we just stay here?"

"I suspect Mason will break down the door before too long. He was already looking way too pleased with himself when he saw us come in here. I'm sure he's already bragging how he finally managed to break down the noble Harry Potter."

"We don't have to tell him the truth right away, do we?" Ginny suddenly sounded a bit more alert. "It could be fun to have round two."

Harry snorted. "You're going to kill me, you know that? I can't remember the last time I had an erection for three solid hours before I was able to do anything about it."

"Solid is a good word for it," said Ginny with a giggle. "Every time you smoothed down the front of your robes I almost lost it."

Harry buried his head in Ginny's neck and sighed. "We need to go back out there," he said with a sigh. "Mason is going to need to crow about this." He rolled off of her and sat up.

"How are you going to play it?" asked Ginny. She sat up too and reactualized a pair of knickers.

"I think this calls for a bit of 'teenaged brooding Harry,'" he said with a laugh. "Let's see how well I do." He stood up and pulled up his pants and trousers before closing his robes again. "Just . . . try not to look at me. And keep your knickers on this time," he said warningly.

Harry took a deep breath and set his face in what he hoped were mulish lines before marching out and going straight to the bar. He ignored Mason's loud "Oh ho! Looks like I was right!" and poured himself a drink. He stood there for a long minute before taking a deep breath and turning around to look at the room.

Ginny was sitting in a chair near Mason and Aurora, watching him with a serious expression. If he didn't know her better, he would have thought she was angry. Instead, he recognized her face as trying very hard not to laugh. He took a big sip of whiskey and started towards them.

"Aren't you going to ask if I want a drink?" Ginny's voice carried across the room. "I think I'd like to try some of that Scotch."

"Good idea, Holly, to try Scotch now that you've had English." Mason guffawed at his own joke and a few other Aurors in the room laughed too.

Harry groaned to himself and poured Ginny a glass of the scotch. He walked tersely over to hand it to her.

Mason looked back and forth between Harry and Ginny and raised his eyebrows. "So, Harry, was I right? Eating out once in a while has its advantages, doesn't it?"

 _Oh Merlin_

His resolve to keep up the pretense already fading, Harry nodded jerkily. "I like to eat out," he said to the man. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny blush and cross her legs more tightly. "Actually, I may want to eat out later tonight."

Mason laughed out loud. "I knew it!" he said with satisfaction. "I just had to find the right woman and I knew I could get you to let loose a little bit." The man looked at Ginny.

"So Holly, tell me, was Harry here as good as he looks?"

Ginny choked a little on her scotch and Harry had to restrain himself from jumping to pat her on the back. When she caught her breath she nodded.

"Better," she said thickly. The desire in her voice was palpable and Harry found himself already feeling the next stirrings of arousal.

"Aha," Mason sat back against his chair. "It's like I said. No one is meant to be with just one other partner forever. There is always someone out there who is better for you, even if it's just once." He looked at Harry. "So tell me, Harry, how does Holly here compare? Did she make you appreciate your wife more? Or maybe she gave you some ideas about how you'd like to spice things up when you get home, Hmmm?"

"Both," Harry choked out. "She . . . she did both." He leaned down and grabbed Ginny's hand, pulling her to her feet.

"Can you please put your ring back on?" he said quietly against her ear. "I don't like seeing you without it."

Ginny understood immediately that the game was over. She waved her wand to take off the concealing charm and Harry relaxed to see the slim platinum band reappear. Ignoring Mason and everyone else in the room, he took Ginny's face in his hands and kissed her deeply, sighing with satisfaction.

Behind them, Mason was sputtering with amazement. "I'm better at this than I thought!" he said to the room at large. "Harry, from now on, you need to let me pick a woman for you every year!"

Harry decided it was time to come clean. He broke the kiss and turned around.

"Only if you keep picking this one," he said with a grin. He took Ginny's hand and walked her over to Mason's chair. "Despite my best efforts to keep the two of you apart forever, I should have guessed my wife would find a way around it." He squeezed Ginny's hand. "Mason Dearborn, I'd like you to officially meet my wife, Ginny Potter."

To his immense credit, Mason thought Ginny's scheme was brilliant, and he laughed harder than anyone at learning the truth. He slapped them both on the back so many times Harry suspected he would have a bruise for days.

"Okay Potter, you win," the man finally said. "If I had a wife who traveled all the way across the ocean pretending to be someone else just to have sex with me, I wouldn't look any further either." He held out his hand. "Well played, Mrs. Potter. Well played." He looked at Ginny. "Are you going to stay for the week? You are welcome to."

Ginny shook her head. "I think one more night is all my parents can handle with the kids."

Harry gave her another hug. "Remind me to thank them again when I get home." He looked at Mason and smirked. "Actually, I bet they would love a bottle of really good Firewhiskey as a gift. Didn't you say you had one?"


	5. Fantasies

A/N: Working on the next Bill/Fleur now. That story is almost done and I want to get it finished!

This is a continuation of the chapter called "Hogwarts"

They both did fall asleep, curled up around each other, and awoke supremely relaxed nearly two hours later. Harry was still completely naked and Ginny felt him stir against her bum as they came back to themselves. She rolled over to face him.

"Nice try, Potter," she said with a grin. She reached her hand down between them and stroked Harry's length, chuckling when he sucked in his breath. "But I seem to recall you promising that it's my turn now."

"Your hand seems to think it might be my turn again," said Harry cheekily. He thrust lightly against her before sitting up. The blanket fell off and Ginny couldn't help but admire the lean planes of Harry's chest. She reached up and stroked across his stomach.

"I'm very comfortable right now," she admitted.

Harry grinned. "A two hour nap with your naked boyfriend will do that," he agreed. "But . . . there is something I want to do with you, if you will let me. Something I've been thinking about for a long time."

Ginny sat up, suddenly interested. "Okay, she said.

Harry smirked. "You're agreeing before you even know what it is?"

Ginny shrugged. "I trust you. And I can't imagine it will be something I don't like." She gave him a shy smile. "I know we haven't been back together for very long, but . . . I don't feel like I did my fifth year, you know? When I had to set limits and worry about going too far and things." Her smile turned slightly more wicked. "I mean, I know now that we are going to do . . . everything. At some point? " She gave him a questioning look.

"Everything. Most definitely," agreed Harry fervently.

"Right, everything," repeated Ginny. "And I guess I don't feel like we have to have some particular timeline to do . . . those things. I'm pretty comfortable with you already. I mean, I've seen you naked, and I haven't run away screaming yet." She waggled her eyebrows.

"Witch," said Harry fondly. He nuzzled at her neck. "Since you seemed to enjoy seeing me naked so much, I guess I should warn you that what I have planned has you returning the favor." He pulled back and looked at her carefully. "Okay?"

In response, Ginny wiggled against him more firmly. "Fair is fair," she said. She sat quietly for a second, expecting that Harry would move to remove her track pants. Instead he jumped up.

"Where did you put my clothes?" he said, looking around. "We need to get dressed to go . . . where we are going."

Ginny was about to make another cheeky comment about how long it might take them to find their clothes and what was wrong with being naked here, now, when something in Harry's expression stopped her. Desire, determination, and a bit of uncertainty sat together easily on his face and she shivered. She had thought she had an idea of what Harry wanted to do - the phrase _return the favor_ floated around in her brain – but now she wasn't so sure. She shivered again, unaccountably feeling more aroused than the simple act of pulling on her shirt should make her.

Harry had his back to her; he was speaking softly, and Ginny saw a silver blur rush away from him towards the castle.

"Was that your Patronus?"

Harry nodded, turning to wrap his arms around her. "Needed to send Ron a message," he said thickly. He'd not finished dressing, and Ginny could feel his arousal against her thigh. He shook his head as if to clear it and stepped away from her with an apologetic expression. "This is . . . this is going to be harder than I thought," he said by way of explanation. "Just thinking about, umm, what I want to do. To you, I mean. Just thinking about it is making it difficult for me to concentrate." He shook his head again and sighed. "I just hope I don't bollocks it up. I'll probably bollocks it up."

Ginny leaned up and kissed him lightly on the jaw. "I can't imagine that," she said softly. She let her expression grow a little wicked. "You have that book from Fifth Year, don't you?"

Harry nodded distractedly. "And Seamus," he said, inexplicably. He was looking up towards the direction of the castle, even though it was hidden from sight. He turned around suddenly. "Right then," he said with sudden authority. "We can go." He held out his hand. "Ready?"

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Ten minutes later Harry stood with Ginny, again outside the door to the Room of Requirement. No one else was around. Harry gave a sheepish grin. "I needed to make sure that . . . Ron and Hermione were, you know, finished," he said. "Now it's our turn."

"Our turn to add some magic back to the room," Ginny quipped.

Harry grinned. "Something like that, I hope," he said. He closed his eyes and walked back and forth past the door and Ginny found herself more than a little curious about what it was going to look like when they entered.

Harry pushed open the door and looked inside. "It worked!" he said happily. He grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her in with him.

She looked around. "Is this . . . your dorm?"

"Yep," said Harry. He was already leading her to the bed over by the mullioned window. Ginny could see the Hogwarts grounds and a sliver of the lake through the panes.

"Wow," she said. She sunk down on Harry's bed. "I guess the Room of Requirement wasn't damaged that much after all. If I didn't know better, I'd think we were in Gryffindor Tower."

"It probably helps that this is a place the Room is already familiar with," said Harry. He pulled off his robes and tossed them on a chair. "If I'd asked it to make, I don't know, a circus tent or something, it might have had more trouble." He touched Ginny's robes. "Don't you want to take those off?"

"Sorry," said Ginny. She began to undress. "But, a circus tent? Is that someplace you've thought about . . . doing things?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

Harry shook his head and moved closer to her. "Nah, too many people around." He was wearing only his boxers now, and Ginny could see his erection. She stripped down to her knickers and bra and put her arms around his waist before kissing him lightly on the chest.

"But your Hogwarts dorm . . .?" she asked.

"Most definitely," Harry said. He sat her down on the bed. "I think I've spent more time thinking about you in this room than anywhere else." He gave a sheepish grin. "It was one of the things I thought about, the whole year we were hunting Horcruxes. I would watch your dot, seeing that it was in your room, and wish that instead, we were together in mine." He gestured to the space. "Alone. Unclothed."

Ginny shivered. "And what did you imagine we were doing?"

Harry leaned over and gave her a soft kiss. "Will you let me show you?" he asked. His lips had barely moved away from hers and he tilted his head to look her in the eye.

Ginny didn't hesitate. "Yes," she said.

Harry swallowed. "I know we haven't . . . I mean, umm, it was a long year," he said quickly, a blush climbing up his cheeks. "And my umm . . . what I thought about, sometimes got . . . you know." His blushed deepened. "You can tell me to stop. If it gets to be too much." He kissed her again. "I know that some of it was probably unrealistic."

She knew that Harry was trying to sensitive, that he didn't want to push her to do anything that made her uncomfortable. But to be honest, the thought of Harry having unrealistic sexual fantasies about her the entire year they had been apart didn't scare Ginny at all. In fact, it was more than a little arousing. She took his face in her hands and gave him a deep kiss. By the time it broke, she was pretty much sitting on top of Harry's erection, grinding into him.

Harry looked at her dazedly. "Wow. Okay. So you don't mind . . .?"

Ginny shook her head firmly. "Obviously, I'll let you know if I get uncomfortable, but I can't imagine you making me feel that way. I mean, it's your first time for everything too, right?"

Harry nodded emphatically. "Everything I've done so far, I've done with you." His grin grew a little sly. "Although, some of it, I've only done with you in my head." He scooted them both further back onto the bed. Ginny climbed out of his lap and they both lay down on their sides, looking at each other.

"I'm curious to see inside your head, Potter," she said cheekily. She scooted herself closer so that Harry's erection pressed against her belly.

"You scream my name a lot, in my head," he admitted.

Ginny gave a sharp intake of breath. "Well then, I hope the Room knows how to set silencing charms."

In response, Harry hitched one leg over Ginny's hip and pulled her flush against him. He kissed her intently, rocking their bodies together and running his hands up and down her back.

Ginny moved her hands down to Harry's hips and pushed him into her. He groaned as she wiggled against him and she felt a deeper thrum of pleasure course through her.

Slowly, Harry rolled them both until Ginny was underneath him. He raised himself just high enough off her shuffle himself down to her neck and collarbone, presses soft kisses as he went. When he got to her chest, Ginny quickly reached behind her and undid her bra; she let Harry pull it off.

He blew out; his warm breath across her skin caused her nipples to harden and he shuffled again so he could take one breast in his mouth. Now Ginny could feel Harry's erection on her thigh. He was pushing himself into her and she let her legs fall open a little wider to give him room. He reached down and adjusted himself before turning his attention back to her chest.

Harry suckled one nipple, and then the other, and Ginny groaned. She fisted her hands in his hair and arched up her back, trying to push Harry even closer against her skin. He obliged, covering one mound with his mouth. He was breathing heavily already, and when he looked up at her from his position at her chest, Ginny could see the intensity in his gaze. He stayed at chest, kissing more lightly now, and one hand traveled down Ginny's side and over the curve of her hip.

Harry moved so that he was lying less on top of her. His hand brushed over the fabric of her knickers. Ginny shivered and made a small sound of assent, and Harry hand brushed again, this time, lower down. A third time, and then his hand stilled, covering her.

"You're. . . you're wet," he said, and the wonder in his voice was obvious.

"You aren't the only one with fantasies, Harry," Ginny managed. She thrust upwards and felt Harry's hand cup around her more firmly.

"Okay," he said. "Right then. I'll, umm, I'll just . . . take these off?" he plucked at the waistband of her underwear.

"Yes, please," Ginny said thickly. She raised her bum so that Harry could slide them over her hips and down her legs.

And then she was completely naked, lying on a bed with her boyfriend, and he was looking at her with an expression that Ginny hoped she never forgot. The arousal was there, of course, and anticipation, with a shy determination that made Ginny smile. Harry was thinking about this; he wanted to do it right, and Ginny knew he didn't quite trust himself to make his daydreams live up to reality. His eyes traveled across her body, stopping for a long moment at the space below her navel, and she saw him swallow hard.

She reached up and brushed her fingers across his jaw. "I trust you," she said simply.

Harry nodded mutely and then blew out a breath. "You're beautiful," he said, and there as so much longing in his voice that Ginny felt tears prick her eyes.

Harry began kissing her again, but Ginny could tell he was a little impatient now; he spent only a minute or two at her lips and neck before moving his mouth lower. This time, when he stopped at her chest, she could tell it was not his focus; he kissed one breast and then the other, but his hand kept moving, until he cupped her gently between the legs. He shuffled so that he was lying on his side and Ginny felt Harry's fingers tentatively brushing against her folds. It tickled a bit, but in a good way, and she pushed her hips against his hand, trying to increase the pressure.

"I'm going to just, umm . . ." he began, and then he sat up and scooted down to sit cross-legged beside Ginny's waist, much the way she had been the first time she had taken him in her hand. His gaze was intense; Ginny saw a little wrinkle of concentration between his eyes as they stared at the place where his fingers were starting to disappear inside of her. He bit his lip and pushed one in further, letting out a breath as he did so.

"Ohh, that's . . . ohhh," Ginny mumbled. "Feels good."

Harry's expression relaxed a bit. "Good," he said. He pulled his finger out and then pushed it back in, adding a second. Ginny wiggled felt herself contract almost involuntarily around his hand. "Yessss," he hissed, feeling the pressure. It seemed to embolden him, and he moved his fingers in and out of her more quickly. There was a small smile on his face now and Ginny saw his tongue dart out for just the barest second.

"Now where is the . . ." he mumbled out loud, and Ginny felt his thumb fumbling around above her opening. She giggled and Harry's eyes flew up to her in surprise.

"I said that out loud, didn't I?"

Ginny giggled again. "I'm glad you're trying to find it," she said. "Try a little bit lower."

Harry bent down and peered carefully at Ginny's parts. He moved his second hand down and spread her open, and his expression was so earnest that when his thumb finally made contact with her clit Ginny almost lost it right then.

"Ahhhh, Harry. Right there," she gasped, bucking her hips into his hand. Harry pressed again and Ginny groaned, letting her head fall back onto the bed. He started moving his fingers in and out again and Ginny tried to match his rhythm even as his thumb slipped off her clit and the she felt herself ease away from the peak.

"Ooops, wait," he muttered. "Hold on." His thumb fumbled again.

"It's okay, Harry," she gasped. "It all feels good. Just . . . do what you want."

"What I want?" he asked quietly. Harry's hand stopped moving.

Ginny looked up at him. He was staring at her and his eyes were wide with need. He licked his top lip again and his eyes glanced down at her and suddenly Ginny thought she knew what he was thinking.

"You want to . . .?" She began. Shyness made her stop.

But Harry nodded firmly. "Use my mouth, yes," he said. He swallowed. "At least, I want to try."

"How do you . . . I mean, do you think you will like it?"

Harry flushed a bit. He had started moving his fingers in and out of her again, slowly, and his gentleness made Ginny tingle. "I've been thinking about it a lot," he admitted. "And . . . Seamus says it's bloody fantastic."

"Ahhh," said Ginny. "I've . . . I've heard that too." Growing up with as many brothers as she had, Ginny had overheard quite a few discussions over the years that she was sure they would not have wanted their little sister to know. Bill especially had been quite adamant about the fact that knowing how to properly go down on a witch was a skill that every bloke needed to master. "Gets me off like nothing else can sometimes. Not even sex," he'd said to the twins, while Ginny had listened avidly from the hallway. Now she matched Harry's flush.

"I'd like you to try," she said quietly. "Please."

Harry nodded. "Okay then." He continued to move his fingers in and out for a minute, as if considering. "Okay," he said again, almost to himself. He took a deep breath and moved to lie down so that his head was between her legs. Ginny bent her legs and let her knees fall open and Harry grabbed her thighs and pulled himself closer.

She could feel him breathing in and out; it felt warm against her skin. He touched her again with his fingers, spreading her apart, and then Ginny felt him shuffle closer and a different kind of pressure, warmer and softer, tapped one of her folds and then retreated. A second later, another taste, this time on the other side.

"Ohh," she said in surprise. "That feels . . . that feels good."

Harry didn't answer, but she knew he'd heard her, because the next taste was bolder; he licked all the way down her center. Ginny clenched her legs around him involuntarily; it just felt _that good_ , and Harry made a low sound of pleasure in his throat. His head bobbed up between her legs and he looked carefully at her through the juncture in her thighs. Ginny could see his eyes, dilated wide with desire; she nodded at the question in them and he nodded before lowering his head back down.

This time, Harry pulled himself in close and suddenly his tongue was everywhere, sweeping up one side and down the other of Ginny's folds. A brief pause, and then he thust into her, a single finger joining in to provide a second sensation. And then, Harry's mouth unerringly found what his fingers had not, and he flattened his tongue against her clit with such authority that Ginny couldn't hold back a scream.

"God, Harry, right there!" she moaned and writhed under him and her frenzy seemed to spur Harry on as well. He leaned into her and sucked long and hard, letting his tongue flick back and forth, and Ginny came undone. Vaguely, she knew she might be hurting him, but she just couldn't keep her thighs from clamping around Harry's head as she rocked into him, feeling her orgasm building everywhere. She was clutching at the blankets on the bed and crying out his name, and when Harry made one final thrust with his tongue, Ginny let herself go.

Harry kept his mouth on her while she contracted and trembled and panted, his tongue slowing down in time with her. And when she was finally lying, spent on the blankets, he pulled himself up her body and kissed her softly on the cheek before burying his head in her neck.

She could feel Harry's heart beating as wildly as hers and he was panting as if he'd just run a race. When he lifted his head again, Ginny could see herself glistening on his lips and it didn't bother her at all to reach forward and kiss him full on the mouth. He tasted a little strange, to be sure, but she supposed it didn't really matter. Not after what he'd just done for her.

Slowly, she shuffled under him, intending to roll him onto his back and try to return the favor. But Harry just clutched at her and wrapped his arms tightly around her back, keeping her in place.

Ginny held Harry just as tightly, enjoying the way their bodies fit together. "You got me to scream your name," she eventually said.

Harry nodded into her chest. "It was brilliant," he said, a smile in his voice. "Better than I'd imagined." He sighed softly. "I got you to scream, and you got me to come." He looked up at her then, a half smirk, half blush on his face.

Ginny was suddenly aware that the space where their bodies met felt rather sticky. She looked down and saw creamy white dotting her breasts.

"Just from that? I didn't even touch you," she said.

"I know," Harry chuckled. "About the time you clamped your legs around my head, I climaxed all over the blankets."

"Wow," said Ginny. "And here I was, getting ready to return your favor."

Harry groaned. "I'd love that," he said. "But I think I'm going to need another nap first."


	6. Ginny's Pregnant! Part I

A/N: Just a drabble I wrote between assignments at work; I've discovered that taking little breaks helps me focus.

I will neither confirm nor deny how much of this is autobiographical, but I'll go on record as warning women against Thai food in the first trimester. :)

I'll write Part II eventually; the next chapter of Charming Ginny is almost finished and I want to get that up first.

Ginny insisted they wake up at 5 am – both of them – so that she could properly brew the potion that would tell if she was pregnant. It was still dark out, and the early November chill seeped through the windows. Harry really wanted to stay in bed.

"No one's pregnant at five in the morning, Gin," he mumbled sleepily, but she was having none of it. Weasley through and through when it came to _not being able to wait until a decent hour_ for a surprise, she bounded up and into the loo, flicking her wand to turn on the lights as she went.

"Witch," he muttered under his breath, but joined her shortly.

She gave Harry an uncharacteristically shy smile. The vial she was swirling in her hand held a muddy purple liquid and she tapped the side of the glass twice with her wand before putting it on the counter.

"Do you want to wait here, or in bed? It's going to take about fifteen minutes for the results."

Harry chuckled. "You got me out of bed to tell me that we can get back into bed?"

Ginny shrugged, the shy look still on her face. "I don't want you to miss anything."

Harry nuzzled her neck. "I was there for all the important action," he said. "I don't think watching you pee in a jar is really necessary in the scheme of the whole thing."

Ginny swatted him. "Prat," she said. "Your work is definitely not done here."

"Oh, don't worry, I know. Remember Fleur?"

"How could I forget? _Don't 'zink you can just sit back and let me do all 'ze work of carrying 'zis bebe, Bill Weasley!_ _Your job didn't end when you pulled out!"_ Ginny snorted. "I don't know who was more embarrassed, Bill or my father."

"Your mum thought she was brilliant though." Harry's nuzzles had become more insistent; he slowly shuffled her backwards until her bum touched the wall and fiddled with the hem of her nightgown, pushing it up over her hips.

"Guess we aren't waiting in bed," Ginny said breathlessly. She shoved down her knickers with one hand and wrapped her arms around Harry's neck.

"Guess not," Harry mumbled. He picked Ginny up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Harry walked them both over to his vanity and sat Ginny on the very edge while he fumbled at the waistband of his pajamas.

"I got it," she said. She put her feet against his hips and shimmied his pajamas down to the floor.

"Talented," chuckled Harry. He was already thrusting inside her.

Ginny wrapped her legs back around Harry's waist and pulled herself against him. There was barely any outward movement between them; he pushed into her with tiny pulses that kept him almost completely enclosed.

She kissed across his chest and then put her hand on the back of his head and pulled his lips down to hers. Harry wrapped an arm under Ginny's back and held her in place as his thrusts became more frantic.

"Hold on, Harry, I'm close too," she panted against his mouth, and Harry gritted his teeth, fighting for control.

Ginny squeezed her arms and legs tightly around him as she began to climax; truly, Harry could have let go of her and she would not have moved. With a final thrust, he met her at the top; they toppled over together amid a mingled cacophony of words and groans and sweaty kisses.

Harry was still catching his breath when Ginny wiggled in his arms. "Harry," she said, and there was an odd timbre in her voice. "The potion."

Harry twisted around. The vial was still sitting innocently by the sink. Except now, the muddy purple had faded into a nearly clear lavender color. Even as Harry watched, a few silvery sparks shot out from the top.

He felt Ginny shiver. "I'm pregnant, Harry," she said softly. She buried her head in his neck. " _Pregnant_." Her voice grew a little stronger and she pulled back to look him in the face. "We're going to have a baby."

Harry stared at the potion, now bubbling merrily. He looked down at his wife, who looked as if she was about to burst into both laughter and tears. He looked at his hands, still on Ginny's hips. _These hands are going to hold my child._ His eyes prickled. Harry swallowed hard. He brushed away the first tear that snaked down Ginny's cheek, and bent down to kiss her gently on the lips.

"I'm going to be a father," he said softly. He took a deep breath; he realized he was trembling. "And you are going to be the most brilliant mum."

HPHPHPHPHP

They didn't tell anyone at first, and for several weeks, Harry alternated between feeling like he would burst with the secret and the disbelief that it was actually true. Everything felt exactly the same; they continued to live their lives much as they had before the potion - working, playing, making love – except that every so often, one of them would just _look_ at the other and they'd stop what they were doing to stare at each other. _Can you believe we are actually going to have a baby?_

Ginny knew she would have to leave the Harpies; they both mentioned more than once how lucky it was that she'd gotten pregnant right after the season ended. She was less sad about it than Harry had expected; one night she told him she was thinking of working for the league in some other capacity.

"Maybe public relations," she said thoughtfully around a mouthful of the Thai take away Harry had brought home. "That way I could stay involved with the game."

"I think that sounds brilliant," said Harry honestly.

That night, she coaxed him into the shower with her, (although truly, it did not take much coaxing), and pleased him with her mouth and her body until he nearly choked on the water. Afterwards, they lay together naked in bed and he crawled down her body to whisper against her stomach, interspersing his words with kisses. He looked up at her.

"It wouldn't be weird if I, uhh, went lower, would it? I mean, it's not like baby Potter can _see_ anything, right?"

Ginny laughed. "Right Harry. Baby Potter is about the size of a knut right now and I'm not even sure it has eyes yet. Your wife, on the other hand, wants to be able to watch everything. So get going."

The next day, Harry awoke to the very pleasant sensation of Ginny straddling his thighs, her hands alternately stroking and gripping his morning erection. He grunted a "good morning" before rolling her onto her back and plunging inside her to finish; she watched him the entire time with a small smirk on her face. Harry knew how much she loved to make him lose total control.

That afternoon, Harry had just set a rewarming charm on the leftover takeaway from the previous night's dinner when Ginny walked into the kitchen.

"Oh god, what's that smell?" She was standing in the doorway with a disgusted look on her face.

Harry was confused. "It's the Pad Thai from last night," he said, holding out the dish. "Do you want some?"

"Ugh, no," muttered Ginny. Harry saw her swallow hard. "I'm going to, umm, be in our room." She turned and quickly left the kitchen.

Harry looked down at the food in his hand and gave it a sniff. It smelled the same as it had the night before – delicious. He put the platter down on the table before following Ginny.

She was curled up on their bed with the lights off. Harry reached out and touched her on the shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Obviously, she wasn't.

Ginny shrugged under his hand. "Eh," she muttered. "Better now that I'm not in the kitchen." She rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. "I guess I'm not going to escape morning sickness."

"Morning sickness? Are you sure? It's like two in the afternoon."

Ginny sighed. "Pretty sure. It can happen at any time."

Harry hadn't known that. He made a mental note to pay more attention to the pregnancy and baby books Ginny had begun to accumulate. He looked down at his wife's pale face. Things suddenly seemed a lot more real.

They got even more real after that. Harry became an expert at the spell needed to tie Ginny's hair back when she suddenly lurched to the loo to vomit. He stopped asking after the second time why she couldn't summon an extra blanket herself when her wand was _right there_ next to the couch – apparently it was just too exhausting to lift her arm for the spell. He ate most of his meals at work, lest he bring anything _with an odor_ into the house. And at the same time, he watched as Ginny tried, and then rejected any number of foods herself; nothing tasted good, or even right to her. And he absolutely never touched her first.

He'd made that mistake pretty quickly, sitting down on the bed next to her and running his hand across her hip. There had been no suggestion in the action, he just wanted to make her feel better.

But Ginny had moaned and moved away. "Don't, Harry. Just . . . don't."

He wanted to do everything right, so he'd stopped immediately. But he really missed the contact. Ginny would occasionally still lean against him while they sat on the couch, and she usually gave him a chaste kiss goodnight, but it wasn't the same. And after she complained that his rolling over in bed was upsetting her stomach, he'd gamely moved to the guest room to sleep.

He couldn't even bring himself to wank; the combination of his guilt over Ginny's illness and the knowledge that it just wouldn't be the same kept his hands off himself as much as they stayed away from his wife. It would be worth it, and he knew that under the nausea, Ginny missed him too. She told him as much all the time, promising to make it up to him as soon as she felt better.

Harry just hoped it would be soon.

There was a particularly busy week at the office, and although he hated to be gone so long, Ginny told him not to worry, that she was perfectly capable of tying her own hair back and making toast and taking long afternoon naps. She was usually still asleep when he left in the mornings and back up on their bed when he came home late to shower off the smells of the day before kissing her goodnight. And if her kisses seemed more needy than they had been, well, Harry assumed she was feeling as lonely for him as he was for her.

The case finished on a Friday, and Harry skipped his normal sandwich in favor of maybe seeing Ginny before she fell entirely asleep. She was lying in bed when he got home, and her eyes brightened at the sight of him.

"Earlier than usual," she said. "Is the case done?"

Harry nodded. "I can get back to taking care of you and baby Potter now. How are you feeling?"

"About the same," she said. She closed the baby book she was reading. "It's about the size of a Gobstone right now," she said. Next month it will be as big as a Snitch."

"And then what, a Quaffle?" Harry stripped off his clothes in preparation for his shower. He thought maybe Ginny's eyes flicked towards his middle, but the next second she was rubbing at her face and he assumed he'd imagined it.

Harry stepped into the shower and turned all the jets on high, sighing in relief. It had been a long, tiring week with a lot of field work, and he was feeling more than a little sore. He was standing fully under the spray, letting the water pound his shoulders when he felt a sudden cool breeze. Almost immediately, warm hands circled his waist.

Ginny had gotten into the shower with him.

Harry sputtered, spitting water out of his mouth before looking down at his wife; she had a pleased smirk on her face. Even as his brain was still trying to process, she stepped close enough to him so that their bodies touched. Harry's penis, which had been just lying there flaccid, waiting patiently to be washed, gave a sudden twitch of interest.

Ginny reached her hand down between them.

"By the way," she said casually, stroking, "I started to feel better about the same time you starting working late."

Harry gave a soft groan as Ginny's hand grasped him more firmly. "And now . . . ?"

"Now I'm more than ready to make up for all that lost time," she said happily.

"Thank god," said Harry fervently. His arousal was growing rapidly; Ginny kept her hand on it the entire time.

"That was quick," she said, laughing.

He bent down to kiss her. "I'd like to say that is the only thing that's going to be quick tonight, but it's been a really long two months."

"For me too," she said. She wrapped her hands around Harry's waist and pressed his erection between them as they continued to kiss. His entire body was tingling when she finally pulled away.

"Let me wash you," she said. "And then I want to go to the bed." she spoke with authority and Harry felt a jolt of excitement.

"Whatever you want," he said against her hair.

Ginny picked up the soap and carefully washed across Harry's back, and then his front, tickling him with her fingers and then washing away the bubbles so she could cover him with her mouth. She was more than solicitous with his erection, alternating between skimming her fingers lightly over it and then gripping it firmly, letting her hand slide up and down its length until Harry thought he would explode.

"Ginny . . . " he groaned, caught between the desire to have her continue and the knowledge that it would feel even better to be inside her.

Luckily, Ginny made that decision for him. With a final rinse, she turned off the water and did a perfunctory drying spell on them both before they ran through their chilly bedroom and dove under the covers.

"Ahhh," said Harry, leaning back. "I've missed this bed."

"Yeah, I'm so sorry about that," said Ginny. "We probably could have figured out a spell so I didn't feel you moving around."

Harry shrugged. "It's okay," he said, "I just wanted you to feel better."

"I do," Ginny nodded. She reached down between them again. "And pretty soon, I think I'm going to feel even more better."

Harry knew he had to get Ginny ready, knew that it would probably be bad form to simply start grinding into her right away. But he was so damn aroused it was hard to focus.

Ginny seemed to understand. "I've been waiting all afternoon," she said. She pulled him on top of her and clasped her hands to his bum. "I really, really want you inside of me now."

Harry couldn't speak. He fit himself between her legs and slid into Ginny with a sigh that was half relief, half pleasure. "Yessss," he hissed when she lifted her hips so that he could slide in deeper.

Ginny put her hands around his face and kissed him while pumped. "Missed . . . this . . . so . . . much," she grunted in rhythm with his thrusts. "We're going to having a lot . . . of sex . . . now." She thrust her hips up against his. "A lot," she repeated. She came, loudly, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him tighter against her. "Oh fuck, that feels good," she said harshly.

Ginny saved her swearing during sex for particularly hot moments, and as soon as she spoke Harry climaxed immediately, groaning her name as he shook with his release.

It took a long time for Harry's heartbeat to slow down. Ginny was lying on her back against the pillows, and Harry was on his side, staring in awe at the swell of flesh that rose up between her hipbones. It hadn't been there the last time he'd seen Ginny naked and he could not stop running his hand over it.

"Our baby, it's in there, right now," he said softly. He leaned down and kissed around Ginny's belly button. "Do you think it's a boy or a girl?"

"With my family? Probably a boy," she said, laughing. "We can find out in a couple more weeks if you want."

Harry shook his head. "I want to wait until it's born," he said firmly. "I don't want to know until we meet him or her for the first time."

Ginny smiled indulgently at her husband. "Well then, we'll wait," she said.


	7. Skiving

A/N: I wrote this years ago for a challenge on Sink Into Your Eyes but I think it belongs here. They are a little more strict about sexy content there, and I considered editing this to make it more explicit, but it just sounded off. Enjoy!

"Come on, I have an idea." Harry tugged insistently on Ginny's hand and she had no choice but to follow him down the corridor. He ignored the stares and giggles from passing students, so intent was he on a goal Ginny couldn't see yet.

"Harry . . ." she began with a touch of fond annoyance. He had a look in his eye she knew well — a look that said rules were about to be broken. "I don't think . . ."

"Here!" said Harry with satisfaction as if Ginny hadn't spoken. "This is the best one." He was standing in front of a small door just off the Charms corridor.

"The best what?" Ginny asked. "Harry, you know we are supposed to be . . ."

Her words were cut off yet again when Harry pointed his wand at the door. Ginny didn't hear even a whisper of _Alohomora_ before it opened with a soft click to reveal — a broom closet.

"A broom closet? Really?" She looked up at Harry. He nodded solemnly.

"Yep. We've never snogged in one, you know."

Ginny wrinkled her nose in thought. "We haven't? Are you sure? What about that time . . . oh wait, that was the secret passageway by the kitchens." She smiled in remembrance. "Kissing and cream puffs — that was a great night."

"Yes, yes it was," said Harry, tugging on her arm again. "But now we're going to snog in a proper broom closet. So come on before someone sees us and it ends up in the paper or something."

Ginny sighed and followed Harry into the broom closet. This was going to get them in trouble — she just knew it. Not that it wasn't also a bit exciting. When Harry closed the door they were plunged into darkness and Ginny could feel his warm breath in the air and his body brush up against hers. She shivered.

"I told you." Harry's voice was the tiniest bit smug. " _Lumos_ ," he said, and the closet was suddenly bathed in a warm glow. He smiled down at her. "It's a nice closet, isn't it?"

Ginny looked around. Not having much basis for comparison, she nodded. "Very nice. But Harry, aren't you supposed to be down at the greenhouses with Ron and Hermione?"

"S'okay," he mumbled, his mouth now busy at her neck. She wanted to admonish him some more but it felt too good and before she knew it, she'd tilted her head back to give him better access. "I saw Neville," Harry continued between kisses. "Told him I'd be late. He'll tell Ron n' Ermione." He looked up at her. "Besides, admit it — you never skived off a class in your life — isn't it about time?"

"Skiving? I don't think . . ." she began again, until Harry put his fingers on her lips.

"Shhh. Just enjoy yourself," he said.

"But DADA . . ." she said weakly. Harry's hands were under her shirt and he'd pressed himself up against her. She took two involuntary steps backwards until her bum touched the back wall of the closet.

"DADA is not for an hour," said Harry. "We have plenty of time. Now, are you going to take off your shirt or do I have to do it for you?" He stepped back for a moment and looked at her appraisingly. "You look fantastic in that Quidditch uniform," he said. "The first years aren't going to be able to fly straight."

" _I'm_ not going to be able to fly straight, if you keep that up," said Ginny. Harry had pulled her shirt off and slipped his hands inside her bra to rub his thumbs lightly over her nipples. "I thought we were just going to snog."

"Amateur stuff," said Harry thickly. "Anyone can kiss in a broom closet. It takes real talent to shag in one." He unbuttoned his own shirt and Ginny could see how aroused he was.

"You just pointed out that we'd never been in a broom closet before," said Ginny in a teasing voice. She was starting to get more aroused herself. Harry unbuckled his trousers and Ginny reached forward to pull down his zipper and slip her hand inside.

"Ahhh," Harry grunted. "I knew this was a good idea." He leaned forward and began pushing Ginny's track pants down over her hips. "Wanna do it standing up?"

"I'm not sure we have a choice," said Ginny. She opened Harry's trousers fully. "I don't see a bench or anything."

"I could conjure one, you know," said Harry cheekily. He walked the few steps toward her with a leering grin. "We could . . ."

A noise outside the door made them freeze.

"Shite, Harry, did you set the silencing charms?" Ginny grabbed around for her wand. "Someone could be looking for us - I was going to meet L . . ."

" _Muffliato_!" cried Harry. He waved his wand at the door and a couple more sparks shot out of it as the wards set. They looked at each other with wide eyes. "That was close," he said.

"Too close," agreed Ginny. "We're going to have to be careful getting out of here or we'll never live it down."

"Uh huh," said Harry. He moved closer again. "But let's not think about that now. "We still have almost half an hour before I have to be at DADA and you have to be on the pitch."

"We can do a lot in half an hour," murmured Ginny against his chest. Her mouth found his and her hands snaked around his back, pulling him even closer. "You're going to have to lift me up," she said.

"My pleasure," said Harry. His hands found her bum and as he lifted her onto him, Ginny couldn't help but wish they had done this a lot sooner.

The rest of the hour passed too quickly. Harry was still mostly naked when he looked down at his watch and yelped. "Shite — I have to be at DADA in ten minutes. It's going to look really bad if I'm late.

"It will look even worse if you walk into the classroom with your fly open," said Ginny lightly. She finished pulling on her Quidditch jersey and couldn't help feel a tiny surge of pleasure that it still fit. "I don't think you want James to die of embarrassment, do you?"

"Not today, no," agreed Harry. "I already humiliated Lily by catching her holding hands with some Ravenclaw bloke. Who said she's old enough to date, anyway?"

"She did, Harry," said Ginny patiently. She looked carefully over her husband. "Are you finally ready to sneak out of here?"

Harry nodded and picked up his wand to remove the wards. Just before he opened the door, he stopped and looked thoughtfully around the broom closet. "You don't think the kids know about this broom closet, do you?"

Ginny snorted. "No, Harry. I'm sure none of our children have any idea about how to snog in a broom closet. Al especially. He's only been dating Emmy for what, two years now? I'm sure he doesn't know a thing about it."

Harry swatted her lightly. "Well, it took me over twenty years to get you in one. A father can hope, can't he?"


	8. Body Shots

A/N: This is a somewhat edited version of one of the chapters from the original "Watching and Waiting." As a friend of mine mentioned after I first posted years ago, I pretty much wrote about an orgy at the time. When I reread recently, it just didn't feel right anymore, so I made a few changes to cut down on the drunken exhibitionism. Don't worry, there is still plenty of explicitness. Also, Fred is alive here, as is Lavender. I just couldn't kill anyone off for this story.

Body shots

 _The party the summer after the war ended was epic; even years later, all anyone who had been there had to say was "remember, at the Burrow party . . .?" and everyone would stop what they were doing to reminisce about that weekend. "Thank Merlin for contraceptive charms and hangover potions," someone was always likely to say, to universal agreement._

After a picnic dinner, Harry and Ginny made particularly good use of the privacy afforded by the hanging branches that sheltered the far side of the pond. By the time they got out of the water, the sun had almost sunk behind the distant hills. Harry and Ginny walked casually back to the group, hoping that no one had noticed their extended disappearance. For a little while, they thought they had been successful. But as they grabbed cups and a bottle of Firewhisky and joined Ron and Hermione on a large conjured blanket, Harry noticed Ron giving him a funny look.

"So, uhh, where were you two?" Ron asked, with an air of forced casualness.

Harry decided that in this case, the best defense was a good offense.

"Just swimming. Where did you and Hermione disappear? Gin and I looked all over the pond."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at this but kept her mouth shut. Ron started to answer and then suddenly frowned. "Ginny, weren't you wearing a blue swimsuit before?"

Harry swore under his breath. He hadn't been able to find Ginny's swim bottoms after she had taken them off in the pond and she had been forced to summon another suit from her room. That was actually the reason for their delay; Ginny had crawled up onto the bank of the pond for her wand, and the sight of her bare bum was more than Harry could take. He had gotten out of the water after her, barely taking time to marvel that he could be so hard again, so soon. It had been some minutes before Ginny had had the presence of mind to cast the correct Accio.

"I think it faded in the pond water," said Ginny coolly.

Ron frowned again. "From blue to yellow?"

 _He picks now to turn into the kind of bloke who pays attention to what a girl's wearing?_

Harry broke in hurriedly. "I think it was a joke of the twins. You know, clothing that changes appearances in the water."

"I've never heard them talk about . . ." Ron was not to be deterred. Harry gave Hermione a desperate look and suddenly the hand that had been caressing Ron's thigh disappeared higher up the leg of his shorts. He started and sucked in his breath, all thoughts of his sister's swimwear thankfully forgotten. Ginny grinned at Harry and took his hand, threading her fingers through his.

Everyone was having a great time when Seamus got to his feet and shot sparks out of the end of his wand to get their attention. He was holding up a bottle of something that didn't look like Ogden's, and grinning at the crowd.

"If you could all give me your attention for a moment," he said, playing up the Irish brogue like he did whenever he'd had a bit to drink. "Well, except you, Neville," he continued, raising his eyebrows at his former roommate who appeared to be currently getting to second base with Hannah Abbott. Neville flushed and sat up. Still always the gentleman, he helped Hannah straighten her t-shirt before putting an arm around her shoulder.

Seamus began again. "As I was saying, I thought it might be fun to try something I learned in a Muggle bar in Dublin . . ."

"I don't know, should we really trust the Irish?" George called out.

"Only if you want to have any fun tonight!" retorted Seamus. "But then, if you aren't interested in doing body shots, I'm sure Angelina there can find someone else who is."

He had everyone's attention. A couple of the Muggleborns were nodding and Dean called out, "Wicked idea, mate!" in the middle of the general murmurings of those who still had no idea what Seamus was talking about. He looked down at Lavender and held out his hand. "Will you be my lovely assistant?"

Lavender grinned and stood up. Seamus waved his wand and suddenly, the table in front of him was filled with a line of bottles, a number of shot glasses and salt shakers, and bowls of sliced limes and strawberries. Lavender opened one of the bottles and poured a healthy shot.

"Right then. Okay," said Seamus. "What we have here is called Tequila. It's a Muggle drink that can give Firewhisky a run for its money. But if consumed correctly, as it will be tonight, it's a bloody fantastic time." He motioned to Lavender, who put a salt shaker and slice of lime in front of her next to the full shot glass.

"Watch carefully, everyone!" called out Seamus.

Lavender licked the space between her thumb and forefinger on her left hand and sprinkled the wet spot with salt, then picked up the lime in the same hand. She looked at everyone and picked up the shot glass in her free hand. Raising it in a toast, she took a breath, and then, in one almost fluid motion, sucked the salt off her hand, downed the shot and, with a shudder, popped the slice of lime between her teeth, sucking deeply for a minute.

The assembled crowd cheered and clapped as Lavender gave a cheeky curtsy.

"Wait a minute, Seamus, _that's_ supposed to be a bloody good time?" called out Fred. "Cause I could be in my room making my bed or something, you know."

Seamus raised his eyebrows. "More likely in your room 'polishing your broom', I should think." He and Ron gave each other a high five and Fred joined in on the laughter, holding his hands up in surrender and then putting his arm back around Alicia Spinnet.

"What Lavender just demonstrated is the correct way to drink a shot of Tequila alone. However, a body shot of Tequila is quite different. If you will all observe." He held out his hand. "Lavender?"

Standing next to Harry, Ginny muttered, "I can't wait to see this."

"Neither can I," replied Harry honestly, earning him a raised eyebrow and jab in the side from his girlfriend.

Lavender poured another shot and lined up the salt and lime. She then turned to Seamus and smiled into his eyes as she slowly pulled off her t-shirt, revealing . . . well, Harry supposed you could call it a bikini top, if a bunch of silver string attached to what looked a couple of Muggle postage stamps was proper swim attire. He didn't remember it being that small when the group was swimming earlier, and by the look of absolute lust in Seamus' eyes, Harry suspected that Lavender might have performed a shrinking charm on the suit at some point.

That was the only thing that was shrinking, however, and not only on Seamus. Harry found himself leaning forward a bit to see exactly what the pair was going to do, and the thought of Ginny standing before him with that same expectant and flirtatious look in her eyes suddenly sent a bolt of heat between his legs.

Next to him, Ginny had gone silent as well, watching. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw her lick her lips. He swallowed hard, then took her hand.

In front of them, Seamus forced himself to look away from Lavender and at the crowd. "Watch closely, now," he said, his voice cracking just a little.

Lavender took the slice of lime and held it between her teeth, flesh side out. She brushed her long hair away from her shoulders as Seamus stepped close to her and slowly, very slowly, Harry thought, began kissing her wetly along her collarbone. Lavender shivered, and Seamus put one hand around her waist. With the other, he carefully sprinkled salt on the bit of exposed flesh he had just licked, and picked up the shot glass.

Harry realized he was barely breathing. Ginny had moved even closer to him and her body seemed to be vibrating with energy as she watched Seamus move himself so that he was pressing himself into Lavender's thigh. He dipped his head to her shoulder again and licked off the salt, thrusting into her at the same time. Lavender's head fell back and her eyes closed as Seamus downed the shot and leaned over, deftly covering his lips with hers as he sucked on the lime. He raised his head only long enough to spit it on the ground before resuming his attentions to her mouth.

Ginny moved so that she was standing in front of Harry. He wrapped both arms around her as she backed into him, grinding her bum into the erection that had been steadily growing. He growled into her ear.

"Need to get some of that Tequila. Now, I think." Ginny leaned her head back against his shoulder and whispered her response.

"I can think of quite a few places on your body that might need a bit of salt licked off of them."

Harry groaned into her hair. "Show me, then."

In front of them, Seamus and Lavender had finally broken apart and were staring into each other's eyes, panting slightly. Harry knew that despite their casual flirtation, the two really did care about each other, and given the glazed look on Seamus' face, Harry was glad for them.

The applause this time had an awed tone to it, but was also somewhat perfunctory, as most of the watchers seemed quite eager to have a go with the Tequila themselves. Seamus shook himself out of his stupor enough to gesture to the bowl of strawberries on the table, calling out "It's also good with something sweet as a change! Just be careful, the Tequila is pretty potent." He then looked back at Lavender and slowly began taking off his own shirt.

Harry turned Ginny in his arms and pressed her against his crotch again, his tongue hungrily finding hers as he fumbled on the table next to him, trying to grab the Tequila and limes. His mind was buzzing with ideas, and it was only the thought that most of Ginny's brothers were at the party that kept him from casting some kind of privacy charm and bending her over the table right there.

Lucky for Harry that he was able to show a bit of control, because Ron and Hermione had suddenly appeared next to him at the table. Ron was almost pulsing with excitement.

"Food and sex at the same time, what could be better?" he exclaimed delightedly while piling a bowl with both limes and strawberries, juice from the latter already dribbling down his chin. "Mione, let's try the strawberries first, I think you can balance one in your . . ."

He froze then, realizing that Harry and Ginny were standing right next to him. Ron glanced down at the bodies of his best mate and sister, still pressed together, and almost immediately snapped his head upright, catching Harry's eye. Both blushed scarlet, finally caught having to face the unspoken that had lain between them ever since Harry and Ginny had gotten back together.

With a jolt, Harry realized that he was not the only one to have kept secrets; Ron and Hermione were clearly sleeping together as well.

"So, umm, uhh . . . looks like fun, eh?" Ron gestured awkwardly at the table.

"Uhh, yeah. Fun," replied Harry, awkwardly, trying to both hide his obvious arousal for Ginny from her brother and also ignore Ron's similar feelings for Hermione. Finally he took a deep breath and looked Ron square in the eye.

"How about, what happens here tonight, stays here?" said Harry, holding out his hand.

Ron looked relieved. "Agreed," he said, quickly shaking Harry's hand and then directing Hermione around to the other side of the bonfire.

Ginny had been watching the exchange with amusement. "Boys," she said fondly.

"What?" asked Harry indignantly.

"You and Ron can barely look at each other because you're so embarrassed at the thought of each other kissing your girlfriends. It's sweet, really."

Harry had to protest. "First of all, may I remind you, it's a lot more than kissing these days." He pushed his now full erection against her for emphasis, causing her to gasp. "And furthermore, he's your brother! I can't talk to your brother about, well, you know." He ground himself into her again. "If he was anyone else, well then, yeah, I'd probably want to talk to him." Harry grimaced. "It was hard enough, having that talk with him, Bill and Charlie, even though none of them knew how much I fancied you at the time. They just thought I wanted the knowledge for future reference."

Ginny smirked. "And what exactly did they say when they discovered that I was the one you were dating, and with whom you were using all that new-found knowledge? I'm actually kind of surprised Bill hasn't sat me down for a 'brotherly' chat, yet."

Harry looked sheepish for a moment. "Uhh, Hermione may have helped me with a Confundus charm or two," he admitted.

Ginny reached up and kissed him deeply. "Bill's too smart to be confunded. I bet he's just waiting for the best time to take the mickey," she giggled. At Harry's horrified look, she kissed him again. "Let's just get on with the tequila – it looks like everyone else is getting ahead of us – we have some catching up to do."

Indeed they did. Once Harry tore his eyes away from Ginny and looked at what some of the other couples were getting up to, he couldn't wait to get started. Next to him, he felt and heard Ginny suck in her breath as she watched Oliver Wood and Katie Bell, just on the other side of the table, Katie's blonde hair illuminated in the firelight, and the lust in Oliver's eyes was unmistakeable.

They were obviously a couple of body shots into the evening already. Both were shirtless, and the top strap of Katie's bikini was undone, the rest of it hanging uselessly around her middle. In another circumstance – say, the Quidditch changing room - Harry might have been embarrassed to see her half naked, but here, watching his two former teammates make out was a fucking turn-on. Not because he was at all attracted to Katie, cute though she was. But because of what Ginny was beginning to do to him as she watched, mimicking the other couple.

One of Oliver's arms was around Katie's waist, pulling her more firmly against him as he kissed her neck. The other hand snaked up and cupped her bare breast. After a minute, he began stroking her nipple, and Harry could see as it suddenly hardened. It would have been difficult to miss even if Katie had not just thrown her head back and moaned.

Harry was distracted then by the fact that Ginny had taken his own hand, and sweet Merlin, slipped it underneath the top of her swimsuit. He gently stroked her breast and then squeezed gently around her nipple, rolling it between his fingers and brushing light strokes across the tip with his thumb until she was moaning herself. Ginny looked into his eyes, her own dilated with arousal, and asked "Where do you want to do the first shot?"

Harry had to shake himself enough to focus on her question. She was holding out the salt shaker and shot glass, and Harry took only a moment to decide.

"Put the lime in your mouth, like Lavender," he commanded. With the last bit of presence of mind he possessed, he set a mild obscuring charm around them. And then, dipping his head, he proceeded to gently but thoroughly lick the space between Ginny breasts. Ginny shuddered, and Harry took a deep breath, trying to gain control. He sprinkled the salt and picked up the shot glass.

Ginny grabbed Harry's hips with her hands, moving him against her. Her eyes were closed in anticipation, and for a moment, Harry forgot what he was supposed to do, enjoying instead the feeling of Ginny moving his body against her. After a few seconds, he leaned back down and sucked the salt from her, then swallowed the shot of Tequila.

It was sour and slightly bitter to the taste; the smell reminded him of a plant he had used in potions class. Not completely disgusting though, especially with the taste of Ginny's sweat still on his lips. He grabbed the lime from her mouth with his own and squeezed it between his teeth as he had seen Seamus do. As heat from the Tequila traveled through his body an overwhelming need jolted through him, and he spit out the lime and grabbed the back of Ginny's head, positioning it so that he could push his tongue deep into her mouth. She kissed him back eagerly, running her hands up his back under his shirt, stopping only to tug it over his head.

They stared at each other with wide eyes, panting. Harry wanted everything at once, and he could tell Ginny did too. But he forced himself to take another deep breath and look around.

Some of the couples seemed to have melted into the trees; there were fewer bottles of Tequila and shakers of salt on the table now. Harry could see parts of Seamus and Lavender, both laying down on a blanket just a little ways away. Lavender seemed to be wearing even less now, but it was kind of hard to tell; Seamus' own body was covering hers as he balanced above her on his forearms, slowly stroking her with his torso as it moved up and down her body.

Ginny was watching them too, unconsciously moving her own hips up and down against Harry's crotch, her hands still at his waist, slowly pushing his swimsuit lower on his hips and tickling his hips where they narrowed and dipped towards his penis.

Seamus thrust down suddenly and grunted, while Lavender wrapped her legs around his back. Apparently, she wasn't wearing anything either. Ginny gasped and tightened her grip on Harry, pushing him more insistently into her. He wrapped his arms around her and rocked back, unconsciously following the rhythm of his former roommate.

Harry was just thinking that maybe he should just skip the next shot of Tequila and take Ginny right there when a groan from the other direction brought his attention back to what Oliver and Katie were now doing. Next to him, Ginny sucked in her breath as she saw what Ginny did – Katie, on her knees in front of Oliver, holding a salt shaker and shot of tecquila.

Ginny couldn't stop staring. Harry saw her lick her lips as she moved her eyes up and down Oliver's body. She blushed a bit and then looked up at Harry.

"His abs are almost as nice as yours," she said in a husky voice, running her fingers over Harry's tight stomach muscles and then trailing them down the path of dark hair that disappeared into his waistband. She dipped her fingers below again, a little lower this time, and Harry felt a feather light pressure on the side of his cock. It jerked of its own accord and Ginny chuckled.

"Almost as nice," she continued, "but not quite 'up' to your standards."

Harry couldn't answer. He struggled for control as Ginny moved her hand a little further into his swim trunks.

Just in time, Harry shot another obscuring spell at his former teammates; he knew they'd all be grateful for the privacy in the morning.

"Do you want me to . . .?" she gestured at the now blurry images of Oliver and Katie. "Yes please," Harry said thickly, swallowing hard. "But only if you want to."

"Oh, I want to," replied Ginny, grabbing the salt and Tequila and lowering herself to her knees in front of Harry.

Harry gave a brief moment of thanks that Ron and Hermione were nowhere in sight and then all thoughts went out of his head as Ginny's tongue began exploring. He shuddered and leaned back so that he was almost sitting against the edge of the table, bracing himself with his hands, and not caring at the moment that his girlfriend was practically performing fellatio on him with only the barest of privacy spells to keep anyone else from seeing them. He made the mistake of looking down then and it was almost his undoing.

Ginny was working his swim trunks even lower, her hands and tongue taking turns stroking up and down the sides of his length. Every time Harry watched her tongue dart out towards his sensitive skin he felt another shock of heat course through him.

Other than Oliver and Katie, and Seamus and Lavender, no one else seemed to close by, and neither of the two couples were showing the slightest bit of interest in Harry and Ginny. He cast aside the last bit of self consciousness at their position and gave himself over to Ginny and her lips and tongue.

Now Ginny had lowered his swimsuit a bit more and was carefully sprinkling salt right onto the base of Harry's penis. He took a lime in his hand and watched with wide eyes as Ginny started at the head, sucking and licking her way to the salt. She downed the shot, but instead of taking the slice of lime Harry shakily offered her, she moved her mouth back to the head of his penis and sucked deeply.

Harry groaned. He involuntarily thrust himself deeper into Ginny's mouth, almost going over the edge at the sensation. With the greatest of effort, he pushed Ginny's head gently away and dropped to his knees as well.

"One more . . . for you, I think," he managed, pushing Ginny back onto the blankets they had been sitting on earlier.

Ginny's eyes were dilated with pleasure as she watched Harry grab the bottle of Tequila. He pushed down her swim bottoms and carefully licked the inside of her thigh, up against her curls, and sprinkled on the salt. But instead of taking up a shot glass, Harry dribbled the drink over Ginny's flat stomach and up to the mounds of her breasts. She lay perfectly still as he sucked first on the thigh that was salt-free. Then, instead of moving to the other side, he pushed himself down a bit lower and attacked her center with his mouth. He knew how aroused she was and what she wanted; in seconds his tongue was on her clitoris, gently playing back and forth as Ginny let out a moan, and then another. He took it gently in his mouth and sucked, working two slim fingers inside at the same time, and suddenly Ginny was very, very close.

"Oh Merlin, Harry," she gasped. "I want you . . . inside me when I come."

"Hold on, then," Harry muttered, pushing his swimsuit the rest of the way off.

With a fluid motion, Harry licked the salt he had carefully sprinkled on her thigh and slowly, agonizingly slowly, began moving himself up her body, licking up the Tequila as he went. The anticipation was delicious and Ginny could not help but loop one leg around Harry's arse to push him along.

Finally he was fully on top of her and as Ginny looked up, she saw Harry's eyes almost smoldering with need. With the greatest of effort, he grabbed his wand and waved it above them in a quick pattern. The air shimmered a bit and then went still as a stronger privacy spell covered them.

"Don't . . . want . . . to share," Harry grunted. With a groan, he leaned down to kiss Ginny's neck, at the same time pushing his penis into her. Ginny's groan of pleasure matched his own and they began to rock together in a familiar and intensely satisfying rhythm.

Harry noticed Ginny's intensity. He felt like the Tequila had heightened every sensation inside him, and as Ginny squeezed her legs around Harry, trying to draw him even further inside of her, he clawed at her shoulders, trying to draw out every ounce of pleasure he could.

Harry pumped hard, balancing above Ginny on his arms, and she moved one hand down to her clitoris to finish what he had started.

Suddenly he knew she was close. She looked up at Harry and he shuddered, trying to hold on.

"Just a minute . . . longer," she panted. Harry shifted so that his penis was providing more friction for both of them.

"Almost . . .there," he gasped, somehow managing to hold on until he felt her shudder underneath him and arch upwards, a rhythmic pumping around his penis told him she had come, and come hard. Harry let himself go then, pouring into her with intense ecstasy and then collapsing on Ginny, his entire weight comforting and secure like a blanket.

They lay together like that, trying to catch their breath, for several long minutes. Harry was stroking Ginny's cheek and occasionally giving her a soft kiss. He pulled a blanket over their naked bodies and lifted the privacy charms he had cast, curious about what their fellow partygoers had been up to. Well, except for those in their immediately vicinity. Harry and Ginny both had a pretty good idea what they had been up to. And what parts, exactly, had been up.


	9. What Goes Up

A/N: This is part I of a fluffy little "something" I wrote for fun.

Harry got his first erection just a few months after he turned 13; it happened while he was asleep. He awoke in his bed in Gryffindor Tower with sticky pajamas and a vague memory of a dream involving the smooth curve of girl-parts as they looked when covered by a Quidditch uniform. Even as he grabbed his wand from his nightstand and tried to remember the cleaning spell that Mr. Weasley had taught him and Ron that previous summer, he flushed.

 _It wasn't like he fancied any of the girls he played Qudditch with, was it?_

He didn't think so. Alicia, Katie, and Angelina tended to act like indulgent older sisters when they weren't treating him like just another teammate. Harry had observed the flirting that occurred between the girls and Fred and George and Oliver but he had never felt any sort of compulsion to participate himself. So what had happened?

Harry's cleansing spell was only partly effective; he wiggled uncomfortably out of bed and grabbed a towel before sidling into the loo. Luckily, his roommates were all still asleep.

Once safely in the shower, Harry tried to remember what Ron's dad had told them. They had both been properly embarrassed during the talk and now Harry wished he'd paid a bit more attention. It was normal, Mr. Weasley had said. These physical reactions could happen at any time, even if he wasn't thinking about a girl, that much he remembered. The thought had made him nervous. What was he supposed to do if he got . . . one of _those_ when other people were around?

"You will be thankful that wizards wear robes, that I can promise you," Mr. Weasley had said. Now, burying his incriminating pajama bottoms at the bottom of his hamper and pulling on the most confining trousers he owned, Harry had to agree. His body had become, overnight, something of a lit cannon. He wished he had a better sense of when it might go off again.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

At first, third year was torturous. If the Dementors and fears of Sirius Black and werewolves weren't enough, Harry had to contend with the problem of walking around school, sitting in classes, and doing homework in what felt like a permanently aroused state. It was embarrassing and uncomfortable and Harry thoroughly agreed with Mr. Weasley that he was thankful for his robes. Vaguely, he wondered if any of his roommates were having similar problems, but it just wasn't the kind of thing one bloke asked another. It wasn't until he had to call into the shower three times to ask Ron if he was ever getting out that Harry finally cottoned onto the idea that there was a solution to his situation.

He waited until the first Hogsmeade weekend. He couldn't go anyway, and that would give him plenty of time in private to get things right; he didn't really know how long it was going to take. He'd take a shower, he decided; he had already sent so many extra sets of sheets and pajamas to the laundry that he was sure the house elves were talking about him.

So it was with a slightly less depressed air than he would have had otherwise that he watched his friends leave for the village, all of them promising to bring him plenty of candy and trinkets. He waited until the dorm was quite still, and then, feeling a bit silly, stripped off the robes he had put on only an hour before and wrapped a towel around his waist for the walk across the landing to the third year boys' loo. Despite knowing he was alone, Harry set a basic privacy charm around the shower before stepping inside. Good thing Professor Flitwick had taught them just this week for lessons.

The water was warm and Harry's self-consciousness faded in the familiar space. He washed his hair and body quickly and then looked down, considering. It seemed slightly odd to want to give himself an erection; until now, his focus had been on trying to avoid them at any cost. Still, apart from the possible embarrassment, he couldn't deny the fact that it felt rather good to be hard. It caused a pleasant tingling between his legs and, if he wasn't worried about someone seeing him, that feeling would expand to cover more of his body.

This time, Harry knew no one would see him, and he stroked himself lightly a couple of times, sighing when his penis twitched in his hand. It felt really good, and that encouraged him to grasp himself more firmly, sliding his hand down to the base and pushing harder. He closed his eyes and instinctively moved his hand up and down, feeling himself lengthen and harden until it was sticking out straight in front of him. Harry bit back a moan and moved his hand faster. Vaguely, he was aware of images of Quidditch-uniformed girl-parts, like from his dream the month before. There were soft curves covered in red and gold and when he wondered how they might feel if he were to touch them, pressure grew suddenly in his back and he came, spurting white across the shower stall.

Harry squeezed out the last bits of pleasure and did not remove his hand until he was quite soft again and his breathing had slowed. It had been brilliant. He was definitely going to do it again. Hopefully he would be able to last longer than a minute next time.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry took a lot of showers during his third year. He was worried his roommates might guess what was going on until he realized that, they too seemed more interested in hygiene than in previous years. None of them talked about it – it was far too embarrassing, of course – but at least Harry was able to walk the halls of the castle without worrying that an unintended arousal was going to cause difficulty.

His thoughts during his daily wank had become a bit more refined as well. Sometimes, the curves he imagined were not quite as covered in clothing. Sometimes, he brushed long blonde or red hair off a bare shoulder. Once, he glimpsed a face smiling at him, black hair whipping in the wind before it turned away as if flying off on a broom. _That had been an especially good time._ Harry didn't recognize the girl, but her image stayed in his head for weeks afterwards.

And then the school year ended and suddenly Harry had a godfather. Talking to Sirius was brilliant for so many reasons, and Harry filled his letters with questions about his parents, about their time at Hogwarts, and anything else he could think of. But he didn't realize just how useful having a godfather could be until he got one particular letter, which arrived, fortuitously, on his birthday.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Happy 14_ _th_ _Birthday! I wish I could be there to celebrate with you, but this letter will have to suffice: I'm unfortunately not in a position to buy any gifts right now. Take an extra ride on your Firebolt and think of me though._

 _So, 14. I can tell you with some authority that it is going to be an interesting year. Not only because of what is planned at the school but because you are now at an age where you are going to start to notice more and more changes. To your body, I mean. I suspect you have already experienced some of them, right? Third year is what is called "the shower year" for blokes, and I trust you know why. I hope you have had someone to teach you the proper cleaning spells too. There are a few, and some are more useful than others. Hopefully I will be able to see you in person one day and make sure you have them down correctly._

 _But now, girls. If you haven't already, you will soon realize that the little "surprises" that seem to happen at odd and random times are going to start becoming less random. Specifically, expect to find your body reacting in rather pleasant ways because you are having particular thoughts about a girl. Or girls. Or boys, maybe. I don't know. Either one is fine, of course. Whatever makes you happy._

 _It can be tricky, once you find a girl you fancy. On the one hand, you are going to want to think about her. On the other hand, thinking about her is going to cause your body to react. I know. My body reacted to a girl called Cassiopeia Worth almost all of my fourth year, and I'll admit, I didn't do as much as I could have to stop it._

 _It's hard to give advice from afar, so the best I can do is to tell you to have fun, and try not to overthink things. There will be many awkward moments, many, many awkward moments. Remind me sometime to tell you about your dad and his ridiculous habit of ruffling his hair whenever he fancied a girl, and how it once led to him getting a . . . well, I think that's a story for another time. Trust me when I saw that eventually, you will find the right girl, and all the awkwardness will just fade away. You won't need to take nearly as many showers. And it will be bloody fantastic._

 _Love, Sirius._

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

It was during his fourth year that Harry finally recognized the face of the girl who had intruded his thoughts so often. Cho Chang was a year older than Harry, beautiful, and a Seeker. He had watched her play a number of times before and it was with a jolt of surprise (and, to be sure, enjoyment), that he realized he must have been watching her more closely than he thought. Truly, he didn't know what he liked best; her face (lovely and exotic), the way her hair blew around in the wind while she flew (exciting), or the soft curve of her bum that peeked out from under her robes when she leaned forward on her broom to chase the Snitch (wow), but suddenly Cho Chang was on Harry's mind a lot. And when she was on his mind, his penis was, more than likely, hard and in his hand.

And then, he bollocksed things up and missed out on the chance to ask her to the Yule Ball. Until he found out Cho had already agreed to go with Cedric, Harry had harbored fantasies – that seemed to become more explicit every day – about what he and Cho might do during a few quiet and more private moments. These fantasies had become more explicit by the day, until he barely had to think her name to get aroused. And then she told him she couldn't be his date and everything deflated. Literally and figuratively.

Parvati was a very pretty girl, it was true, but Harry simply hadn't been able to muster that much excitement for her. As soon as he glimpsed Cho and Cedric, holding hands and slipping out of the Great Hall, he'd made an excuse about having a headache and gone up to bed. He thought for a minute about taking a shower, but for the first time, Harry didn't even want to. Instead, he grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled a note to his godfather.

 _Dear Padfoot,_

 _Thank you for your last letter; it was very informative, and quite accurate. I think Ron takes even longer showers than I do, though. I'm writing because, well, tonight was the Yule Ball. There is a girl I like, and I wanted to take her as my date. She's really something, beautiful and popular and she plays Quidditch. Seeker, actually. You should see her on a broom, she's like a blur in the air. . ._

Harry had to stop writing. His arousal had returned ten-fold. He sighed and crumpled the parchment before picking up his towel. Looked like his real life experience was going to have a wait for a while longer.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

It was brilliant, finally being able to spend time with Sirius. Despite the nightmarish horror of seeing Voldemort come back to life and his worry over the looming Ministry hearing, Harry had a good time at Grimmauld Place the summer before his fifth year. After a week there, Sirius had pulled him aside. Harry assumed he was going to ask him how he felt about the upcoming hearing and he prepared, again, to deny his worry.

"So Harry," asked Sirius quietly. They were the only ones in the kitchen at the time. "How have things been on the 'witch front'? Did you get my letter about . . . "

"Yes, yes I did," Harry interrupted quickly. "It was, umm, very helpful. Thanks."

Sirius grinned at him. "Don't be embarrassed, Harry. It's all a normal process of growing up." His godfather's face grew a little sad. "Your dad should be the one having this talk with you, actually. I assume you know the mechanics? Of how things work?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he said with a blush. "Ron's dad told us. Summer before third year." Despite his embarrassment, he was rather glad Sirius had raised the topic. After his disastrous attempts with Cho, Harry had questions, and he suspected that his godfather would be more than willing to answer them.

"Good then," said Sirius. "But there is more to it than just . . ."

"I'm starving, is there any of that pie left from supper?" Ron ambled into the kitchen, Bill close on his heels.

"Probably," Harry mumbled. It looked like his questions would have to wait.

He was wrong.

"Bill, great, maybe you can help me out. Harry here has some questions about girls. Want to help me explain some of the finer points of wooing witches?"

Harry blushed. "That's okay, I don't need . . ."

"Great idea," said Bill firmly. He grabbed Ron by the neck as he tried to sidle out of the room, his mouth full of pie. "You too, Ronniekins."

Harry and Ron looked at each other. Despite having shared a dorm room for four years, there were definitely things they just had not discussed, but it looked like that was about to change.

"As I told Harry in one of my letters, it's perfectly normal that he should start having a physical reaction to liking a witch around this age, right Bill?"

Bill nodded, a slight smirk on his face. "Or. . . liking a wizard?" He raised his eyebrows. Both Harry and Ron shook their heads.

"Witch," mumbled Harry, and Ron nodded.

Bill shrugged. "Okay then, not that there's anything wrong if you like blokes, although if that was the case, I'd probably ask someone else to talk to you. But since you both like witches, we can continue." He looked at Sirius. "Where do you want to start?"

"Erections," said Sirius firmly. "What to do with them when you are alone, what to do with them when you are in public, and, most importantly, what to do with them when you are with a witch. Now, when you are alone. . ."

"Uhh, I've got that part, I know what to do," said Harry quickly. "You don't have to explain . . . anything." _Please don't explain anything._ He looked at Ron, who was as red as his hair. "Right?" he asked.

"Umm, right," Ron mumbled. "Except, umm . . . d'you think maybe you could, umm . . . teachmeabettercleaningspell?"

"What did you say, Ron?" Bill leaned forward and Ron took a deep breath.

"I asked if you could teach me a better cleaning spell," said Ron. He was looking firmly at the ground. "Cause the one dad taught us . . . it, umm. . ."

"Ahh, yes." Bill looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. "Dad's fond of 'Teregesperm,' isn't he? Not nearly strong enough for blokes your age and with your probable . . . frequency. That's much better for your minor messes. You know, when most of your climax is deposited . . . elsewhere." Bill gave up the effort and snorted. Harry lay his head down on the table.

"I'd teach them 'Scourgicum,' wouldn't you?" said Sirius. He was leaning back in his chair and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

"Yep. And 'Erasemen' is a good one to know too. Better for messes on the skin, both yours, and hopefully, someday, a witch's too."

Harry couldn't begin to imagine the confidence he'd have to feel before he actually was able to get any of . . . that . . . on a witch's skin, and by the slightly sick look on his face, he had the feeling Ron felt the same way. But Sirius and Bill weren't finished.

After teaching Ron and Harry both spells (which included, to Harry's horror, making them practice on puddles of pumpkin juice and milk they spilled onto the table, their hands, and their pajamas), Sirius picked up the thread of conversation again.

"Erections in public are easier," he said.

Bill nodded. "Keep your robes loose, wear trousers underneath that hold everything in, and, if necessary, think of Hagrid in a bikini."

"Or, McGonagall would probably work too," said Sirius thoughtfully.

Harry and Ron both groaned. "Got it," said Harry weakly. "Can we get onto the . . . the witches now?" For as embarrassed as he was, Harry also figured he'd better learn as much as he could, on the off chance that one day, he would need the information.

"Ahh, yes. What to do with your 'magic wand' when it shows signs of shooting off sparks while you are with a girl." Bill's voice had an undercurrent of glee. "I remember those days, trying to get as far as I could with Melody Arbuckle – I dated her at Hogwarts – and yet still keep her from realizing that I was totally hard."

"What does a witch think, when a bloke gets hard, I mean, can they tell?" Ron looked worried.

Sirius spoke up. "It depends on how experienced the witch is," he said. "If they haven't done much yet and you are wiggling around, trying to keep it from them, they are probably going to just be rather confused."

"In that case, it's best to do your snogging mostly sitting up, or possibly standing," nodded Bill. "Because if you are lying down, it's a lot more difficult to keep her from figuring out what is going on, or feeling it."

"Of course, maybe you'll want her to feel it," added Sirius. "Because it feels bloody fantastic, to lie on top of a witch – fully clothed, of course," he looked questioningly at Ron and Harry.

"Of course," they responded quickly.

"Right, clothed," said Sirius. "It's going to feel great, and you are not going to want to stop . . . grinding into her."

"Don't be surprised if your body takes on a mind of its own, that first time," said Bill with a smirk. "I remember the first time I came on top of Melody . . ."

". . . And the witches, they are okay with this?" interrupted Harry. As fascinated as he was to hear about some of Bill's and Sirius' experiences – the two men likely had more combined experience than all the other males Harry knew, put together – he was even more interested in getting his questions answered.

"Well, most witches will be nervous about it at first," said Sirius.

"And mum thinks that 'nice witches' don't do that sort of thing until marriage," said Bill. "But mum's wrong. Just because a witch likes the way things feel doesn't make her a slag or anything. I think it's perfectly fine for a witch to do . . . things while at school." He frowned. "Except when it comes to Ginny." He shook his head.

"Okay, Ginny aside, there are plenty of witches who will be okay with some 'over the robes' activity that involves your erection."

"And while you are doing . . . that," said Harry. "You might suddenly . . . umm, go off?" He blushed furiously.

"Climax, Harry," said Sirius. "The proper word is climax, although 'come' or 'finish' are fine too. And yes, you very well might climax while you are involved in some heavy snogging or other activities that don't necessarily involve touching below the waist."

"And what do you do then?" Now that they'd started, Harry couldn't stop the flow of questions. In the back, deep recesses of his mind, he was thinking about Cho, and what it might feel like if he was to, maybe, get into a situation with her that would require some of this knowledge.

"Well, you continue as long as she'll let you," said Bill. His face turned serious. "But if a witch ever tells you to stop, or says no, you stop immediately. No questions asked." He looked first Ron and then Harry in the eye to make sure they understood. "It doesn't matter if you are a second from climax. You roll off, move away, and take care of things yourself later."

"And don't make the witch feel bad for wanting to stop," said Sirius. "This is a bigger deal for them than for you. Let them set the pace. Always."

Now satisfied that Ron and Harry understood, Bill continued. "But if she lets you keep going, and you actually do get the chance to finish, then there are a couple of things you need to do. She might be surprised. She might be disgusted. . ."

"She might be really turned on," broke in Sirius.

Bill grinned. "Yeah, you want to find those girls, for sure. But then is the time to tell her how good it felt, how happy you are, and then to show off your mad cleaning skills. And always clean her first. Then you. Make sure you get everything off her skin, clothing, bed, whatever. She's sure to be impressed if you know how to do that."

"Just watch for chafing," said Sirius suddenly. "I forgot to mention that."

"Chafing?" asked Ron faintly.

Sirius nodded. "Too much rubbing through the clothing can be a little . . . rough on the skin. There are charms to help, of course, but even better is to convince the witch to slip her hand inside, and . . ."

"There you all are, Ronald, are you eating _more_ pie?" Hermione appeared at the door to the kitchen and Harry fervently hoped she hadn't overheard anything. She looked around curiously. "Ginny and I have been waiting upstairs forever," she said. "Molly wants us to start cleaning the bookshelves in the library." Her face grew a little dreamy. "I wonder if we'll find anything really rare or interesting there," she said.

Sirius snorted. "More likely you'll find books about how to make sure your friends are all as pure of blood as you are," he said. He looked at Hermione. "I just need to finish telling Harry one thing, then he and Ron will be up."

Hermione nodded. "Bring extra rags," she said as she left.

Once she was gone, Sirius leaned in. "One more thing," he said quickly. "When you are with a witch and you finish, do not, under any circumstances, just roll over and ignore her because you're so tired."

"Especially not the first times you are with her," added Bill. He looked at Sirius. "We need to tell them what to do for the witch first," he said.

Sirius nodded. "Another time, for sure." He clapped Harry on the back. "Write me this year, let me know if you've used any of this information, okay?"

Harry nodded. "Thanks," he said quietly. "If I don't get chucked out of Hogwarts tomorrow, I hope to have the opportunity."

HPHPHPHP

The cleaning spells Bill and Sirius taught Harry proved much more effective that Mr. Weasley's. Unfortunately, Harry only ever got to use them on himself during his fifth year, in the mornings, in bed. For while Cho continued to figure quite prominently in his dreams and his showers, she and Harry never got beyond those few kisses in the Room of Requirement; by Valentine's Day, they were pretty much over. Harry found himself unable to even get hard thinking about her after that; his morning wanks were fueled by faceless Quidditch players again, much to his dismay.

He meant to ask Sirius for advice; clearly he had a lot more to learn before he bollocksed things up with the next girl he fancied, and the next. But it wasn't meant to be, and Harry added _relationship advice_ to the long list of things he'd never get to talk to his godfather about again.

It was Sirius he was thinking about by the pond at the Burrow when Ginny came and found him. It had only been three days since Dumbledore had fetched him from the Dursleys, and despite his promise to the headmaster that he wouldn't shut himself away and mope, Harry had found himself seeking daily solitude. The pond was quiet and peaceful, and it allowed Harry time alone with his thoughts and feelings of guilt and responsibility before rejoining Ron and Hermione and the rest. They all granted him these hours to himself, for which he was grateful. But now it seemed that Ginny had other ideas.

She plopped down next to him on the bank. They sat silently for long minutes, but it wasn't awkward for some reason, and Harry realized he'd gotten used to Ginny's presence. Finally, she spoke.

"I suppose telling you that it's not your fault is useless," she said conversationally.

Harry sighed. "You're not the first one to say so," he admitted.

"But it's not sinking in."

Harry shrugged. "I should have studied Occlumency more. I should have listened to Hermione when she suggested that Voldemort might be taking advantage of my 'saving people thing.'"

"And Dumbledore should have told you more about what Voldemort might try to do, and of course, Voldemort himself can't possibly be to blame now, could he?" Ginny looked at him frankly and he squirmed a bit under her gaze. Her expression softened.

"I get it, though," she said. "For years, I thought it was all my fault, what happened to us in the Chamber; all those people getting petrified, you almost dying. My stupid mistake and nothing else."

Harry looked at her in surprise. "But, that was all Voldemort, taking advantage," he said. "You were eleven years old, and . . ."

"And I had a huge crush on Harry Potter and everyone knew it," she finished. "And I knew better than to trust any object that could think for itself if I couldn't see where it keeps its brain. And what did I do? I trusted the diary." She gave a little shrug. "See? All my fault."

Harry was quiet for a long time, and Ginny let him be. Finally he put his hand on her arm.

"Thank you, Ginny."

She smiled back at him. "Any time."

After his talk with Ginny, Harry found he didn't need to separate himself nearly as often or for as long. He helped around the Burrow, talked for hours with Ron and Hermione about what Dumbledore might teach him in their private lessons, and played a lot of two-aside Quidditch.

It was after one of those games a week later that Harry found himself in the shower, feeling the first stirrings of arousal he'd had since Sirius had died.

He closed his eyes and grasped himself, preparing to envision the random parade of Quidditch-uniform-covered breasts and bums, when suddenly, his imagination become much more specific.

 _Ginny was in her Gryffindor uniform, and they were in the changing rooms after a game. The hangings that normally separated the girls from the boys was gone, and as Harry watched, Ginny pulled off her shirt, and then undid her bra, stretching her arms up to the sky and then reaching down to massage her calves. When she straightened up, she looked right at Harry and smiled. Her fingers brushed against her breast and she reached out to him and grabbed his hand. She pulled him closer, moved his hand to replace hers on her chest, wrapped her arms around him and moved them down to his bum . . ._

Harry was hard in his hand before he realized what he was thinking. He jerked in surprise, but it was no use; one more stroke and he climaxed against the wall of the shower. His heart was beating almost out of his chest and he tried to calm himself down. _What the hell had he just done?_


	10. Pump Up the Volume

A/N: Here is the continuation of What Comes Up. Bonus points (and a shoutout in my next author's note) to anyone who gets the title reference here. There will be one more part after this one; it's a good break from trying to untangle everything I'm trying to convey in the next chapter of Charming Ginny.

Harry emerged from the Burrow's bathroom after his shower in a daze. The realization that he'd just brought himself to climax (and really, it had been one of his best ever) to thoughts of Ginny Weasley hit him with the force of a Bludger. Truly, he hadn't seen it coming.

 _Literally or figuratively_ , he thought wryly to himself. But now that it had happened, and he couldn't un-think it, Harry realized he was in trouble. This hadn't been a mere release, not at all. _He fancied her._

 _Really, really fancied her._

How had he not seen it? Ginny was funny, smart, brave, a great friend. Beautiful. Damn, she really was.

 _And she's dating Dean._

 _Arghh! Forget Dean. She's Ron's sister!_

Harry closed his eyes and tried to get control of his emotions. He'd awakened a monster within him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Harry?"

Harry's eyes flew open. Only then did he notice that his realization and subsequent musings had led him to stop right on the landing outside Ginny's bedroom door. She was standing in front of it, looking curiously at him. Belatedly, he was aware he was only wearing a t-shirt and a towel around his waist. He'd been so shocked by the events surrounding his wank he hadn't even thought to pull on his pants and trousers, but had left the Weasley's bathroom as if he was at Hogwarts, not bothering getting fully dressed until he reached his room.

"Harry?" Ginny was still there, and now she sounded rather amused. "Did you have a good shower?"

 _Worst question ever._

Harry forced himself to try to focus, to ignore the fact that Ginny herself was wearing a dressing gown and looked on her way to shower herself. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and there was smudge of dirt on her cheek that Harry had the perverse urge to wipe off. To his absolute horror, and despite the careful attention he had just shown it, he felt his penis give a renewed twitch of interest under his towel.

"Ummm, yes. Good shower," he stammered. He sounded like an idiot, he knew and he fumbled around for something else to say. "Hot. It was hot." _Oh fuck._ "The water was, I mean. I guess that's the good thing about a magical house, right? Always plenty of hot water? At the Durseley's I shower last and it's always cold by then. So I got used to cold showers. And cold water is . . . cold. I prefer hot." _Stop babbling Harry!_

By now, Ginny was giggling, and while Harry was rather embarrassed to be making an ass of himself, he was also the tiniest bit gratified to make her laugh. She had a wonderful laugh. His penis twitched again and Harry shuffled the dirty clothes he'd been wearing for Quidditch so they covered his front better.

"I uhh, you know," he said, tilting his head up the stairs towards Ron's room.

"Right," Ginny nodded. "And I really need a shower. I got really sweaty while we were playing two-a-side."

Harry nodded stiffly, the mere thought of Ginny, sweaty and naked was doing nothing to help him control his body.

"I'll see you at supper," he managed before escaping up the stairs.

Ron's room was blessedly empty. Through the small window, he could see Ron and Hermione heading towards the garden with a collection basket. _Perfect._

Harry didn't think he'd ever gotten hard so quickly again after a wank. He flopped down on his camp bed and opened his towel before taking himself in hand for the second time in half an hour. Any intent he had to think of something, anything, other than Ginny flew out of his head when he heard the groan of pipes that meant she'd turned on the water in the loo. The thought of her, peeling off her sweaty clothes and stepping naked into the same space where he had just finished was just too arousing. He couldn't help it.

 _Ginny tilted her head back and let the water fall over her body. She groaned as it hit her sore muscles and pushed her wet hair off her face. Grabbing the soap, she ran it across her breasts, down her stomach, and then carefully washed her more sensitive parts below. All the while, her eyes were closed and she had a small smile on her face. She was thinking of Harry, and how it would feel to have him do the washing . . ._

Harry climaxed. Imagining that Ginny was thinking of him the way he thought of her pushed him right over the edge, and he was both trembling with pleasure and a little bit ashamed as he recovered and then said the cleansing spells. Ginny was dating Dean; they were quite happy as far as he could tell. If anything, it was him she'd imagine while in the shower.

 _Damn, he hoped she didn't think of Dean while she showered._

Harry pulled on his clothes. He was tired in a way that had nothing to do with Quidditch. Two orgasms had his limbs feeling heavy and languid, and he actually considered closing his eyes for a quick kip before supper. But the thought of Ron possibly finding him there and the teasing he'd endure forced him up off his bed and out of the room. One thing was certain. Harry was going to have to take every means possible to keep Ron from ever finding out that his feelings towards Ginny were anything beyond that of brotherly.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry became vigilant about setting silencing charms around his bed at night, lest he talk in his sleep and clue Ron into the subject of his dreams.

 _Fantasies, really._

For as often as he berated himself to stop thinking about _Ron's little sister_ that way, the monster in Harry's chest absolutely refused to stay quiet. Harry justified his frequent wanks and the increasingly vivid (and unrealistic) thoughts about what he and Ginny might do by telling himself that it was really a matter of self-preservation at this point. He and Ron had caught Ginny and Dean snogging behind a tapestry and Ron had almost gone spare. Harry had dragged Ron away and agreed wholeheartedly with his best mate that yes, the couple had been behaving in a completely inappropriate manner.

Almost immediately after returning to the common room, Harry retreated to the shower, where he could safely replace Dean with himself in the scene. And despite the fact that the pair had been fully clothed, Harry's daydream Ginny opened her shirt and invited his hand inside.

It ended up being a very quick shower. Harry returned downstairs not long afterwards to discover that Ron had decided to take the matter his lack of experience into his own hands. Or his own mouth, really. Harry couldn't exactly see where Ron's tongue ended and Lavender Brown's began, and he had the sneaking suspicion that Ron may not be needing as many showers soon.

Watching Ron and Lavender tongue wrestle over the next weeks was fairly torturous. The two them seemed to be kissing – sloppily – every time Harry looked. Mealtimes, studying in the common room, in the corridor between classes, anywhere was fair game for a makeout session. Harry got rather tired of trying to have a conversation with Ron while Lavender was wrapped around him, and after one such attempt, when he realized that Ron's hand was somewhere Harry _really didn't want to see_ , even covered in a shirt, he mostly stayed away.

This meant that Harry spent more time with Hermione. He was great friends with her, of course, but being with her meant studying more and talking about Quidditch (and generally goofing off) less. And Hermione was . . . sad. Harry thought he knew why, but had no idea how to talk about it. Instead, he used the Marauder's Map a lot to figure out where Ron and Lavender might be, and tried to steer Hermione in the other direction. They spend a lot of time in the library.

The one advantage of Ron being otherwise occupied was that there was less of a chance that he would suspect exactly how much time Harry was spending thinking about Ginny.

It had gotten bad. Maybe it was the fact that he and Ginny had begun commiserating more about her brother's activities (really, the connection they made simply by rolling their eyes at each other was enough to send a jolt of heat to Harry's groin), but Harry's shower daydreams had expanded to include a number of evenings as well, with a strong silencing charm around his bed (and Sirius' cleaning spells for afterwards).

Hermione suspected, Harry thought. He caught her watching him a couple of times while he was watching Ginny, a small smile on her face. They didn't talk about it though. Harry somehow knew that talking about his feelings (and the fact that there was absolutely nothing he could do about them), would lead to a conversation about his two best friends, and that was a place Harry just wasn't ready to go.

So he thought about Ginny in private, and couldn't stop watching her in public. The monster in his chest was clawing at him more and more and Harry was doing everything possible to keep his feelings (and the physical reaction they caused), hidden.

And then Ginny broke up with Dean.

HPHPHPHP

The detention with Snape was torture; all Harry could think about was what was happening down at the Quidditch pitch. Ginny was playing Seeker, and more than once, Harry realized that he been working for long minutes with no idea what he was doing; he couldn't stop thinking about what Ginny must look like, straddling her broom, that look of intense concentration on her face.

Only the horror over the thought of trying to control an erection in the same room as Snape kept Harry from getting truly aroused. Distracted was bad enough.

And then, he was finally free and running to the common room to learn the results of the game.

HPHPHPHP

Later, he swore to Ginny - really swore an oath – that he'd only intended to give her a hug. But the second her body pressed against his, it was obvious that his weeks and months of denial were finally at their limit. Kissing her happened almost without a thought, and Ron's acceptance made everything that much sweeter. He took her hand and led her out of the portrait hole and for once, Harry realized his body was totally under his control. It seemed that kissing Ginny had pushed all the rest of his crazy dreams and fantasies into the background to be unpacked later, when the time was right.

Instead, as soon as the common room door closed behind them, they stood in the silence and grinned at each other for a long moment.

"So," Harry finally said.

"So," Ginny said back. Her tongue darted out across her lips and Harry took a step forward.

Their second kiss was less frantic and surprising than their first. Harry traced Ginny's lips with his, and cupped the back of her head with his hand. His other hand was at her waist and it was all so brilliant he almost forgot to breathe. A thump from the other side of the portrait made them break apart, but Harry didn't move his hand from Ginny's waist.

"Maybe we should . . " he began, just as Ginny gestured down the corridor and said "do you want to . . .?"

They laughed together and it felt more than natural for Harry to slip his hand into Ginny's for the walk through the castle and outside to that part of the grounds he knew couldn't be seen from any of the windows.

They kissed a lot, that first day, and talked even more. Harry's body continued to obey him, even when Ginny opened her mouth against his and more or less climbed into his lap for better access. Her lips were swollen and her hair was almost as tousled as his when they finally, reluctantly, began walking back to the castle. Harry could not stop stealing glances at her.

"What?" she asked, a tease in her voice.

"You're just really beautiful," said Harry honestly.

Ginny flushed, but she also smiled, and then it turned into a snort. "Part of me wishes I could find a time-turner somewhere and go back to tell the ten-year-old Ginny not to lose hope." She squeezed his hand. "I told Hermione I'd given up on you, but I hadn't. Not really."

Harry had to stop and kiss her again, there on the path. "It's been a long year," he admitted. "And worrying about what Ron would say . . . well, I hope he's still okay with it once he gets over his shock."

"I'll make sure he is," said Ginny darkly, and Harry jumped back in mock horror. "Remind me to stay on your good side," he said.

"You can stay on all my sides," said Ginny happily.

HPHPHPHPHP

That night presented a dilemma. Harry had gotten used to falling asleep to thoughts of some elaborate fantasy involving Ginny and him, and very little clothing, and a lot of Gryffindor daring. Last night, there had even been a flight on a broom involved. But as he lay in bed that evening (after a thorough and wonderful snog goodnight), Harry warred with himself about what he wanted to do. None of his crazy former dreams held any appeal anymore. But sometime while he was kissing Ginny goodnight, Harry's body had given a twinge of interest, and he'd had to take a small step back away from her body.

It was as if it was saying _okay, I let you get to know her lips, now it's my turn_. Harry wasn't sure that the protocol should be. Was it weird, to want to have a wank to thoughts of your girlfriend? _He really liked saying girlfriend._ Should he be patient, and just let things unfold for real, no matter how long that took? Harry didn't know how long that might be; he didn't know how far Ginny had gone with Michael or Dean and he was certainly not about to ask his roommate. Dean had been quiet but cordial, but Harry was sure this was not easy for him.

But his body seemed to make up his mind for him. Just thinking about Ginny, and how it had felt to kiss her and hold her, was enough. He was hard, and this time when he touched himself, he was only a little embarrassed to imagine it was her hand there instead. _Maybe one day it will be._

That was all it took, thinking that Ginny just might touch him down there at some point, and Harry climaxed. His roommates weren't all even in bed yet. Thankful he'd at least set a silencing charm, Harry cleaned himself up and then rolled over, falling into a sound sleep.

HPHPHPHPHP

Two days later Harry was sitting with Ginny under a tree on the far side of the lake. She was twisted sideways in his lap and they were kissing quite insistently. Harry was aroused, and trying to hide it. His legs had been splayed out in front of him but as their kisses heated up, he bent his knees and dropped Ginny's bum to the ground so he could both wrap his legs around her but also keep the necessary distance from the place where she leaned against him.

She scooted closer towards him and Harry shuffled himself back. He was leaning flush against the tree now, and when Ginny scooted again, Harry suddenly had nowhere else to go.

"Ginny," he groaned against her mouth. It was taking all his effort not to grind into where the side of her hip skimmed his arousal.

In answer, Ginny moved closer, and suddenly she was pressing up against him. It was delicious torture and Harry couldn't help but tighten his arms around her to hold her in place. A second later he realized what he was doing and startled so hard he broke their kiss.

"Oh, I umm. Sorry. Sorry about . . . that," he said, gesturing weakly between them. He knew his face was red. "I didn't mean to . . . I mean, I can't really . . . Oh hell." He stammered into silence and leaned his forehead against Ginny's. "I can't really help it," he said quietly.

Ginny stroked her hand down Harry's cheek. "It means you like me, doesn't it?"

"Yes!" the word burst out of Harry. "I like you a lot. More than a lot." He kissed her again. "And not just because of the kissing and because you make me . . . well, you know." Harry gestured again at his waist. "I'd like you even without all of that."

Ginny chuckled. "I'm just taking the mickey," she said. "I have six brothers, remember? I've overheard more conversations than I'd care to about how to 'hide your wand' when you're with a witch. It's quite a common topic of discussion. Not as common as going . . ." now Ginny blushed. "Umm, never mind," she said quickly.

Harry really wanted to know what Ginny had been about to say, but he suspected it might be a topic for when they were more comfortable with each other. Instead, he leaned into her for another kiss and let his arousal press a little further into her side. Ginny responded by scooting against him, grinning when he hissed with pleasure. He closed his eyes. "It really doesn't bother you?"

"It really doesn't," said Ginny. She was quiet for a moment and Harry opened his eyes to look at her. He took her hand.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

In response, Ginny blushed. "It bothered me with Michael," she said. "He was always pushing up against me and it just . . . I don't know. I didn't like it."

"You were younger," said Harry.

"Mmmhmm," agreed Ginny. "And I just didn't like him that much."

Harry didn't want to ask, but felt he needed to. "And . . . Dean?"

Ginny shrugged. "It wasn't as bad, with Dean." She looked quickly at Harry. "But we didn't do much about it. Nothing, umm, nothing under our clothes. Just a little . . . on top." She shrugged. "I didn't feel that strongly about it and he didn't push me."

"That's . . . ummm, that's good to know," said Harry. "That you don't feel strongly about it. I'll be, umm, I'll be careful not to, uhh, get it near you too often."

"No!" Ginny spoke forcefully. She twisted more in his lap so they almost faced each other.  
"I don't mean . . . It's just . . ." she took a deep breath. "I think I do feel strongly about it. With you." Even as she blushed scarlet she was moving herself onto his lap again, facing him so she could straddle his waist.

Harry groaned. "Oh god, Ginny, that's . . . that's. . ." He wrapped his arms around her back to hold her in place. "Are you sure?"

Ginny nodded against his chest. "It feels good," she said. She wiggled a bit against him and Harry bit back a moan. "I didn't know what the big deal was before. For witches." She leaned into him and put her head on his shoulder. Harry stroked her back. "I don't think I'm ready . . . _today_ , to do anything beyond this, but I know I'm going to want to." She leaned back suddenly and looked him in the face. "Is that okay? I know that it's not so easy for a bloke to . . . stop." She buried her face in his chest and just the shift of pressure alone made Harry groan quietly. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable," she mumbled against him.

"Ginny, I can promise you, there is not a thing about this that is uncomfortable," said Harry firmly. "Quite the opposite." He gathered his thoughts. _Might as well get it out there now._ "Having you here, in my lap, it feels amazing." He gave her a squeeze. "It's a million times better than, umm, anything I . . . umm, could do . . . alone." He felt his face heat up. "I assume you've heard your brothers talk about that too?"

In his lap, Ginny gave a tiny snort. "For a long time, I didn't understand why I was always the last one to get a shower at the Burrow, or why my mum kept telling my dad that we really needed an extra loo when the twins came home after their second year." She was quiet for a moment. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything," said Harry immediately. It was more than amazing to him that he felt so comfortable with he already.

Ginny snorted again. "As a sibling of Fred and George, I should warn you about agreeing to just 'anything' before you know what it is," she said.

Harry kissed her hair. "I don't care," he said. "I spent way too long wanting exactly this, right now with you. I'm happy to tell you anything."

Harry couldn't see Ginny's face, but he could hear the smile in her voice. "Okay then," she said. "What I wanted to ask was, umm, whether you . . . thought of me. You know, when you . . ." She buried her face deeper into his chest.

"Ohhh," said Harry. "Umm, yeah. I do." He chuckled. "Actually, hell yeah I do. For a while now."

Ginny twisted to look at him. "Really? For a while? Before we even . . ."

"Uhh huh," Harry affirmed, nodding. "Since last summer at the Burrow, actually."

"Since then?" Ginny sounded rather incredulous, but not displeased, and Harry hurried to explain.

"Remember when you talked to me by the pond? And how we played a lot of two-a-side after that? I umm, started . . . after that. Thinking about you, I mean."

"Wow," said Ginny. "I was with Dean then."

"I know," said Harry fervently. "Trust me, I know. I . . . I didn't mean to think about you like that. I promise. It just kind of . . . happened."

Ginny was quiet for a minute. "I was thinking about you then too," she finally said. "Not all the time, and I _was_ happy to be with Dean. But . . . sometimes I thought about you, and what it would be like to do . . . things. With you."

Ginny's revelation that she had been thinking about Harry for nearly as long as he'd been about her had the near immediate effect of arousing him further. He shifted her in his lap and moved his hands cautiously to her bum, slowly, so that she could stop him if she wanted. She didn't stop him, and Harry pressed her gently into him while he found her lips again for a kiss. She opened her mouth against his and, after a minute, wrapped her legs more firmly around Harry's waist.

The pressure in Harry's groin increased significantly and he couldn't help but thrust up against her. In response, Ginny tightened her legs even more, and they rocked together, kissing frantically. Harry's arms were around Ginny's waist and hers were in his hair and on the back of his neck, and Harry knew he was making noises of pleasure that he hoped could not escape the silencing charms he had set. Ginny made a tiny sound of enjoyment, low in her throat and it was Harry's undoing. Almost without warning that he was close, he climaxed, groaning her name as he released.

They rocked together a few more seconds and then Ginny stilled and looked down at him. "Did you just . . .?" she asked, eyes wide.

Harry nodded. "I couldn't help it. It just felt really, really good." In his mind's eye, he suddenly saw the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, and Sirius and Bill lecturing him and Ron, nearly two years before. "I umm, it was brilliant, really," he said. "I didn't mean to get so carried away though." He moved Ginny gently off his lap. "Let me umm, clean everything up." He picked up his wand and carefully performed both Scourgicum and Erasemen on Ginny's clothing and stomach before attending to himself. She looked down.

"Wow," she said. "I have never heard those spells before. They worked really well." She smirked. "Did my dad teach you those when he taught Ron? I know he has 'a talk' with all my brothers before their third year."

"It's a bloke thing," said Harry. "And umm, no. Your dad taught us something else. These spells I got from Sirius. And, umm, from Bill." He remembered something suddenly. "And you can never tell him. Bill I mean. He can't know that I . . . that we. . . you just can't. Okay? Cause I really want to keep my bits intact."

Ginny giggled. "What exactly did Bill say?"

Harry sighed. "He said that the best type of girl to find is a 'nice girl' who is a little nervous about . . . all this, at first, but who also likes it, as long as the bloke lets her set the pace." He looked up. "Did I, umm, do that?"

Ginny nodded. "You did," she affirmed. "It felt really good." Her smile grew a little wicked. "So . . . I'm that type of nice girl my brother was talking about?"

"Umm, Bill might have made an exception. For you. I don't think he wants to think about you doing anything, but particularly not anything that would require a cleaning spell." He leaned his cheek against Ginny's head. "So please, if you ever want to do anything with me again, and that goes for just kissing too, please, don't let Bill know. Please."

"Probably Charlie too," Ginny laughed. "And could you imagine the twins?"

Harry groaned. "We definitely cannot tell the twins."

Ginny kissed him. "I'll warn Ron to keep his mouth shut," she said.

Harry sighed. "Thanks. I will too. Hopefully the fact that I was really decent to him about Lavender will help." He looked up towards the castle. "Getting to be time for supper, I think. And I wouldn't want to deprive you of a meal."

Ginny swatted him lightly. "I think I may have found something I like doing almost as much as eating," she said.


	11. Becoming a Woman is a Wonderful Thing

A/N: I wrote this years ago at the request of a reader. It's a fun bit of fluff, and fairly accurate, in my experience (mother of many girls here). Enjoy!

"Dad, Lily's locked herself in the tent and she won't let us in."

James was standing in front of his father, arms crossed, an annoyed look on his face. Right behind him stood Albus, mimicking, unconsciously or not, his older brother's stance.

"And she told us to go away _forever,"_ he added helpfully.

"What did you two do to her?" Harry asked. Usually, if two of his children were going to be at odds with the third, Lily would be paired with one of her brothers against the other. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between Al and James that ganging up against their little sister was forbidden, unless of course, she had back-up. If Rose and Hugo were around, for example, all bets were off.

But right now it was just Harry and his three children camping together in the middle of nowhere for the weekend. Ginny was visiting the training camp of England's Quidditch team for a special story she was writing as a run up to the World Cup. There was such secrecy about England's preparations that Ginny herself didn't know where she was; a Portkey had been arranged from the team's office at the Ministry and she would not be home until Monday.

Harry sighed and looked at his sons, trying to determine from their expressions how guilty they were. Things had been going really well on this trip. Although he had admitted it only to Ginny, he'd been rather pleased that none of the kids had protested his idea to spend the weekend camping with him. Or at least they'd confined their eye-rolling to themselves. How many other fathers of teenagers could say that?

Well, Lily was not quite a teenager yet, thank goodness. Although Harry's memories of Ginny at thirteen and fourteen and fifteen shifted from vague to pleasant to rather arousing, her brothers often painted quite a different picture of their little sister during those years. Ginny herself had been known to recall puberty in less than enthusiastic terms, at least, Harry assumed that's what she meant by "those bloody hormones, making me think dating that wanker Michael Corner was a good idea".

Lily was like her mother in a lot of ways — most of them wonderful. But when he thought of Lily getting older — getting interested in boys, or worse, having them interested in her, it was no wonder that Harry sometimes wished he could keep her little forever.

But his musings were doing nothing to help the current situation. He looked silently at his sons, waiting. Often, that was all it took. Somehow (definitely not through any carefully staged conversations with his wife), Harry had gotten the reputation in his immediate family for being quite adept at Legilimency. (He wasn't, really — it and Occlumency were his weakest points as an Auror, but his children didn't have to know that). Sometimes he could even get them to spill their guts without even trying, particularly if they were worried he'd "see" something he shouldn't.

But this time the boys were calmly, stubbornly silent.

"Really dad, I swear, we didn't do anything. Al and I were getting ready to play Exploding Snap and she suddenly came out of her bedroom, plopped down at the table and ordered us out." James was looking beseechingly at Harry, not a hint of guile on his face.

"Why don't the two of you go for a fly or something," said Harry. "I'll try to figure out what's wrong with Lily."

Harry got up and walked over to the tent, hoping that whatever his daughter was upset about was not serious enough to ruin his plans for a Muggle-style cookout that night. If his kids were going to let him take them camping, he was going to go all out — a bonfire, marshmallows, ghost stories and all. Although, Harry considered, given the fact that all three of them went to school with actual ghosts, the latter activity probably had less appeal than it would for a group of Muggle children.

"Lily?" Harry got as close to the tent as he could before a rather impressive Imperturbable Charm pushed him back.

Harry took out his wand. Normally, he and Ginny tried not to interfere too much when their children wanted to be alone — it was a lesson that had taken Harry several years and many painful conversations to learn. Having never had anyone to care about him growing up, he couldn't quite understand why his children didn't automatically run to him for help solving every single problem.

Ginny had humphed and asked him if he knew anyone else in the family who liked to keep their feelings bottled up inside, and after that Harry had stopped pacing the hallway and trying to whisper under the crack in the door whenever one of the kids locked themselves in their room.

This was different though. He had no idea why Lily was upset. She had locked the rest of them out of their only source of shelter. More importantly, Ginny wasn't around to tell him to leave their daughter alone.

Harry had no trouble breaking through the charm — he was a senior Auror up against a 12-year-old girl after all — but as he pushed back the front flap of the tent he mentally noted that Lily must be extremely upset. She would have needed quite a bit of magic behind her to conjure a charm as strong as she had. He wondered what was up.

He expected to find her sprawled out on one of the beds bawling her eyes out, or at least hexing everything in sight, and so was quite unprepared for the sight of his daughter sitting at the table writing frantically on a sheet of parchment.

"Uhh, hey Lils," he said cautiously.

She looked up and sighed, immediately covering the parchment so he couldn't see it.

" It really sucks to have an Auror for a dad sometimes," she said. "There's no way Uncle Ron could have gotten through that charm."

"Heh, don't be so sure," responded Harry. He sat down at the table. "And anyway, if he couldn't, Aunt Hermione certainly would be able to." He liked the normalness of their conversation so far. She wasn't screaming or trying to blame her brothers for something. "So what's up?"

Instead of answering, Lily looked around the tent and frowned. "Where's Mercury?"

"Out hunting, I guess," said Harry. "Who do you need to send a letter to?"

"None of your business," said Lily, sounding a little more like the sullen teenager he'd expected to find in the tent.

"Did your brothers do anything to you?"

"Where's Aunt Hermione?" Lily asked, again ignoring Harry's question.

"Umm, I think she and Uncle Ron and the kids went somewhere Muggle with her parents," said Harry. He bit back a grin remembering how jealous Arthur had been to hear that Ron was going to someplace called "Euro Disney" in France.

"No owls there," Lily muttered to herself. "What about Fleur? Or Victoire?"

"Victoire is still on her honeymoon with Teddy, remember? I think Fleur and Bill and Louis went to Egypt."

"Angelina?"

"I don't really know, Lily. Somewhere with Uncle George, I guess. What's going on?"

Harry was confused. It was Summer; most of Ginny's large family was off traveling one place or another. They'd all secured tickets for the Quidditch World Cup and were planning on having a reunion there at the end of August. So what was wrong with Lily?

"I guess it will have to be Gran, then," she sighed.

"You guess what will have to be Gran? Lily sweetheart, is something wrong?"

Harry reached out and put his hand on Lily's arm. She flinched for a second, then looked down at the table and shook her head. "No, it's fine." She didn't say anything else, and a second later a tear splashed onto the table.

"It doesn't look fine to me," said Harry. He hesitated for a second, considering. Ginny was undoubtedly busy, not to mention extremely difficult to find, right now. Not that he couldn't if it was an emergency. The problem was, Harry couldn't say for sure if what was going on with Lily was an emergency or not.

"Could your mum . . ." he began hesitantly. Lily's head snapped up.

"Mum? You can get mum?" The relief on her face was palpable.

"Umm, I'm not sure," said Harry. Lily's face fell. "I mean, I can," Harry rushed to reassure her, "but I won't, unless I know she's really needed." He lifted Lily's chin. "Is she?"

Lily nodded silently.

"You need to do better than that Lily. If I have to interrupt your mum while she's on one of her most important assignments, I'm going to need to give her an idea why."

Lily squirmed in her seat. "Can't I tell her?"

"Is this about a boy?"

"No!"

"Then what?"

Lily looked down at the table again. "Igotmyperiod."

"What?" Harry was pretty sure he'd heard right the first time. He was hoping he was wrong, but he was pretty sure he wasn't.

Lily sighed. "I. Got. My. Period." She wrung her hands in her lap. "For the first time."

Harry ran his hand through his hair. "Bloody Hell."

"Yes, pretty much," said Lily. Harry looked at his daughter. Her lips were twitching and a second later she bit back the tiniest smirk. Harry couldn't help it — he snorted and then laid his head on the table and groaned.

Lily giggled nervously and Harry wanted to congratulate himself — he hadn't gone running screaming out of the tent yet. This was so definitely Ginny's territory. He'd covered "boy things" with his sons and he'd agreed with Ginny that when the time was right, he'd talk to them about more (Merlin, he hoped it wasn't almost time to talk to them about more).

And so. He was stuck in a tent in the middle of nowhere, wife almost completely unavailable, and with a daughter who had just . . . who was . . .

"Becoming a woman is a beautiful thing," he blurted.

"What?"

Harry looked up. Lily was staring at him, her face bright red. "Please don't say that again," she mumbled.

"Sorry," said Harry. "I'm . . . well this is new territory for me."

"Me too," Lily agreed. "So, can you get mum?" she asked hopefully.

Of course Harry could. It would be a huge relief to both him and Lily to have Ginny there, taking care of things. But even as he was mentally thinking of the steps needed to find Ginny without getting her in trouble with her boss or the English National Team (not to mention keeping the press from learning this bit of Potter "human interest"), he also heard himself tell his daughter, "Let's not bother mum, honey, I can handle it."

 _Had he actually just said that?_

"You can?" asked Lily, doubt written all over her face.

"Hey, I killed Voldemort, remember?" Harry joked.

"Yeah, but I'll bet you didn't tell him that 'becoming a woman is a wonderful thing' before you yelled Expelliarmus," quipped Lily. She seemed much calmer now. Harry plunged on.

"So, uhh, what do you need?" he asked. "I mean, I know what you need — I've bought . . . those things for your mum before, quite often actually. I think she uses a brand called 'Magical Secrets' - how does that sound?" He looked at her hopefully. _He could do this._ He'd Apparate to the nearest Apothecary, buy the . . . things, Apparate back, _and then leave her alone so she could . . ._

Harry shuddered. _He couldn't do this._

Lily made a face. "I think those are for . . . older witches," she said.

"Oh," said Harry lamely. "Well, then, what kind do you need?"

"I'm not sure," said Lily softly. "Couldn't you . . . ask at the store? What kind teenagers use?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer — although he had no idea what he was going to say — when Albus and James came bursting into the tent, soaking wet and carrying their brooms.

"Hey Dad, good thing you broke Lily's wards — it's pouring out there." The boys threw themselves into chairs, spraying water everywhere. James actually shook his head all over the table before punching Lily on the arm.

"Hey sis, are you over whining about whatever crawled up your arse?"

In response, Lily burst into tears.

"You are such a prat, James!" she yelled before jumping up, grabbing the parchment she had been writing on, and running into the tent's smallest bedroom.

"What did I say?" James asked. "It's not like I've never asked her that question before. "

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "But you've never asked it right after she got her period for the first time."

"Daddy!" Lily was standing at the door, a look of horror on her face. "Why did you tell them?"

"Yeah Dad," said Albus, looking a little sick. "Why did you tell us? Cause, that's something we really didn't need to know."

"Ever," agreed James. He stood up. "Come on, Al. Between an overly hormonal sister and a raging thunderstorm, I'll take the rain." They left.

Harry looked at Lily, the silence stretched between them.

 _He could do this. He could Apparate to the store, ask the right questions, come back and give Lily all the support she needed. She was his little girl . . . he could definitely do this._

"Lily?"

"Yes, Daddy?"

"Hold on, sweetie. I'm going to contact your mum."


	12. Love Letters to My Future

Love Letters to My Future

A/N: : While I'm stuck at home with my family in -50 degree temps and several feet of snow, I decided to write a second entry for the upcoming Valentines Day challenge. This is very, very, fluffy, so be warned. And yes, I know that in canon, Harry never saw Snape find Lily's body after she was killed, but it worked here. Also, in case anyone wonders, the last scene takes place a year or two after the rest of the story, not just a couple of months later. Enjoy!

The tufty-haired wizard stood patiently on the porch, waiting for Harry's mouth to start working again. So far, it seemed to have become unconnected from his brain, as the latter attempted to process what it had been told. Harry opened his mouth again.

"My . . . my house?" he finally stuttered. "But . . . but . . . but . . ." That was as far as he could get.

Ginny appeared next to Harry in the doorway and slipped her arm through his. "May I help you?" she asked. Her voice was polite, but suggested that no foolishness would be tolerated.

The wizard nodded at her. "Mrs. Potter," he said. "May I congratulate you as well on your nuptials."

Ginny inclined her head. "Thank you," she said. Her arm tightened around Harry's. "Now, what is this about our house?" She looked around, as if expecting the walls to start revealing secrets.

The wizard shook his head. "Ahh, no. As I explained to your husband, I'm not here about this abode. No, no. It's his childhood home in Godric's Hollow that is the subject of my visit. Its artifacts are still intact there, you know."

Harry finally found his voice. "Maybe you had better come in," he said faintly.

Once inside, the wizard – Archibald Gutter – introduced himself as a practitioner of magical law. "I have been the trustee of the remnants of the Potter home for nigh these twenty-one years," he explained. "You have been there, I presume?" he peered inquisitively at Harry.

Harry nodded tightly. "I've seen it," he said. "From the outside."

Gutter seemed oblivious to the tension. He continued in his mild voice as if he was merely discussing the weather.

"Yes, well, the outside is _fine_ of course, although I can't say I think that it has been improved by all of those _messages_ ," he said primly. "Defacing the sanctity of the site," I've always said. "But others in my office – those who make decisions about such things - believe they add a certain spark of interest to the place." Gutter's voice clearly conveyed what he thought about his coworkers' opinions.

The messages from the public that covered the sign and gates outside the house had always been the only thing Harry liked about seeing it, on the few occasions he and Ginny had visited. He gave another tight nod.

Ginny spoke up. "Could you please explain exactly what it is you are here to tell us?" she asked. "We really do have quite a busy day."

It was a lie; Harry and Ginny had planned to spend the entire day cosseted away from the world. There were still two rooms in the cottage that had not been host to their lovemaking, and Harry had fully intended to change that status. Molly had sent over a meal, there was a Quidditch game to listen to, and Harry had been more than looking forward to taking advantage of the fact that he and Ginny both finally had a day with absolutely nothing else to do but spend it with each other. He sighed.

Again, Gutter seemed not to notice that his presence was rather intrusive. He rifled through his briefcase. "Yes, right here," he said, brandishing a sheaf of papers. "As you undoubtedly know, you own the remains of the Potter house, as well as the entirety of its contents. As you have not yet commenced an inventory of those items, it is my duty as trustee to inquire as to your plans for them."

"Contents?" asked Harry. He felt dizzy. "What contents?"

The wizard looked amazed. "Why, everything in the house, of course," he said. "Furniture, personal effects, mementoes." He shook his head in apparent disbelief. "You do know that upon discovery of your parents' untimely deaths, the entire house was cloaked in a protection charm, sealing it and its inventory." Gutter made a small gesture. "After the Aurors had their search, of course." His tone indicated exactly what he thought of the Aurors and their possible defilement of the place.

Harry shook his head. "I . . . I didn't know," he said finally. "I assumed it had been cleared out. Back then."

"Oh no, not at all," said the wizard. "It's all still there, just as it was left. Waiting for you." He gave Harry an eager look. "I assume you'll be wanting to visit straightaway for a full accounting? I'd be happy to help, of course. Part of my duties as trustee."

Harry didn't answer, and he was relieved when Ginny did.

"Thank you so much for your visit, Mr. Gutter," she said. Her polite tone was teetering dangerously towards . . . not so polite. She stood up, her hand resting lightly on Harry's back. "This is a lot of information to process. Harry and I will need to discuss the best course of action going forward." She held out her arm. "May I show you out?"

"But . . . but . . . don't you want to schedule a formal visit?" Gutter pulled out a datebook. "I cleared all next week for the inventory."

Ginny shook her head. "Nothing is going to happen next week," she said firmly. "As I said, we will let you know if we require your assistance."

Gutter finally seemed to understand the dismissal. He nodded. "I see," he said. He took out a card, glowing letters swimming across the front. "My contact information," he said stiffly. "While your husband is able to access the site on his own – he is the only one who can do so – I strongly suggest that he not visit without proper professional assistance. Myself, and a magical historian at the least."

Ginny was pushing the wizard gently towards the door. "We'll keep that in mind," she said. "Have a nice day!"

That had been June. After the wizard had left, Ginny had taken Harry's hand and led him into as-of-yet unsullied back bedroom, where she used her hands and her mouth and her body to make him nearly forget his own name. They had not spoken of the Potter house since.

Now it was nearly September. Their birthdays had come and gone and they had settled quite nicely into the routine of marriage. One afternoon, after Ginny's breathing finally slowed, she lay quite contentedly against Harry on the double chaise in their back garden. When Harry spoke, it was if the legal wizard had just left minutes earlier.

"We should go tomorrow. To Godric's Hollow."

Ginny wasn't surprised at the abruptness; she knew that thoughts of the house, and its _contents_ , as Mr. Gutter had put it, had never been far from Harry's mind. She nodded. "It's Hogwarts tomorrow," she said.

"I know," replied Harry. "Every time September first comes around, I'm still half thinking about making sure I'm not late for the train."

Ginny chuckled. "We rarely seemed to manage our departures smoothly, did we?" she asked. She ran her hand down Harry's bare hip and made an appreciative sound when he shuddered. "Tomorrow then," she said quietly, rolling back onto her husband.

HPHPHPHPHP

Of course, they didn't bother telling the trustee, or anyone else, about their plans. Harry Apparated Ginny side-along, not because he needed to, but because having her more than a few steps from him was unimaginable here. They were pressed together under his cloak; Harry had no idea what curious eyes might be visiting the site that day.

But maybe because it was early, or many in the wizarding community were seeing their children off to school, the road in front of Harry's babyhood home was blessedly empty. He pulled the cloak off both of them and grasped Ginny's hand.

He understood why she didn't bother telling him that he didn't have to do this; they both knew that. He nodded, took a deep breath, and pushed open the gate.

The sign, covered with encouraging graffiti, rose out of the ground. Harry ignored it. He could feel when the wards shifted aside to allow him and Ginny access to the front walk and he forced himself to walk resolutely up the path. His wand was out, the Alohamora on his lips, when the front door silently swung open on its own.

The sight made Harry stumble. He couldn't help but envision Voldemort opening that same door, just as quietly, all those years ago. Ginny turned at his side and put her free arm around Harry's waist. "It's okay, love," she said quietly. Harry briefly leaned into her.

"Okay," he said finally.

The rooms they walked through were not entirely unfamiliar; Harry had once seen them through Snape's memory. Still, Harry couldn't help but pause in front of the sofa, imagining his parents sitting there much the way he and Ginny relaxed in their own sitting room. His eye landed on a small toy broom lying off to one side, next to a discarded child's drinking cup, the cover still intact. He swallowed.

"I don't know that I can do this," he said quietly.

"I know," said Ginny. She didn't try to talk him into or out of continuing.

Harry closed his eyes.

"Let's just look upstairs, quickly," he said after a minute. "In case there's anything important." He waved his hand at the broom. "I want to take that," he said.

Ginny quietly said a spell and the toy disappeared.

It was obvious even before they got all the way up the stairs where Harry's room had been; too much outside light and breeze flowed in from the left of the landing, and they walked into Harry's nearly destroyed childhood bedroom. Only the crib, against the far wall, was in one piece. The Aurors' protection spells did not seem to have kept out the weather, and everything was faintly damp and decaying. Harry ignored the destroyed bureau and the splintered rocker and strode over to look into the depths of the crib. The sheets were mottled with spots of mold and a stuffed animal had melted into an unrecognizable pile of brownish fluff.

Harry rocked back and forth on his heels as he stared at his old bed. At one point, he reached out and ran his fingers across a number of small notch marks on the rail.

"I probably chewed on this," he said quietly.

Ginny joined him. "You must have been teething," she agreed.

Harry took a deep breath and looked around. "Why do you think it's so destroyed here? Usually the Avada Kedavra doesn't leave a mark."

"I think it was the power of your mum's protection spell," Ginny said softly.

Harry nodded. He knelt down to run his hand over the braided rug in front of the crib. "Right here," he said. "It was probably right here." His voice trembled.

Ginny crouched next to him. "I so wish we could have known them," she said.

Harry nodded, still staring at the rug. "They would have adored you," he said. "I'm sure of it."

Ginny waited, allowing Harry time to reconstruct some semblance of memory. Finally he stood. "Let's check out their bedroom. Then I want to leave."

Somewhat more protected from the elements, James and Lily's old bedroom was in better shape, but still showed signs of time. Harry picked up an old Snitch from the bedside table and squeezed it tightly in his hand before giving it to Ginny to send home. A number of papers and photos had not survived the intervening years, and they were getting ready to leave when Ginny's foot caught on a wooden box peeking out from under the bed.

Inside, carefully nestled in padded silk, were a number of neatly numbered glass vials. Harry's breath hitched. Almost reverently, he picked up the box.

"My Pensieve's at home," he said.

HPHPHPHPHP

They did not speak while Harry got the large, rune-covered metal bowl and set it in the middle of their bed. "We'll go in order," he said quietly, opening the first vial with a tap of his wand.

 _James and Lily were dancing in a garden. There was snow piled around the edges and pink and red fairy lights glowed overhead. Other couples were there too; the Longbottoms twirled and dipped near them, but Lily and James moved sedately, one of James' hands cupped protectively around the curve of Lily's belly. She laughed._

" _I'm not breakable, you know. Look at Frank and Alice."_

" _I don't care," mumbled James into her neck. "I want to be extra cautious."_

 _Lily laughed again. "That would be the first time," she said._

 _James chuckled too. "Don't tell Sirius, he'll never let me live it down." He leaned his head down towards Lily's waist. "How is little Harry or Charlotte doing?"_

" _He or she . . . is just fine," said Lily. "They like the music. I've been feeling more movement."_

 _James leaned his head against Lily's. "I love them so much already," he said. "Isn't that odd? I don't even know if it's a boy or a girl; if I'm having a . . . son or a daughter." His voice tripped over the words. "And I'm already in love."_

" _Much faster than it happened for you and me," agreed Lily with a smirk. She pulled her husband close.  
_

" _I needed to grow up a bit, that's for sure," said James. "I'm just glad I finally got my head out of my arse." He gave her a stricken look. "Should I not say that? Can the baby hear? What if its first word is . . . that one."_

 _Lily smiled gently. "I think you have a little more time before you need to worry about watching your language." She looked around. "This is a nice way for the Order to celebrate Valentines Day, isn't it? I'm so glad we have the chance to . . . just forget, for a little while."_

 _James nodded. "I can't believe that next Valentines Day, we'll have a baby with us, can you?"_

 _Lily shook her head. "It doesn't seem real yet."_

" _I want the baby to know how much we love him or her," James said earnestly. "In honor of Valentines Day." He kissed Lily lightly. "We can make it a yearly tradition. I'll buy you both flowers and then we'll write a love letter to the baby. And all the other babies we have eventually."_

 _Lily leaned into James. "Or we could put the memories away to be viewed in a Pensieve," she said. "I bet our future children would love to see how young and silly their old parents were once."_

 _James nodded. "Good idea. A Pensieve. And we can start now. He dropped to his knees and spoke into Lily's belly. "Hello there, little baby, it's your dad. Kick once if you can hear me."_

 _Lily laughed. "It doesn't work that. . . oh, it kicked!"_

" _Of course it did," said James. "Good listener, that one's going to be. He leaned in again. "Your mum and I just wanted you to know that we love you very, very much, even though we haven't even seen you yet. We might just be pants at being your parents, but never forget we love you. Actually, I'll probably be pants, but your mum is going to be brilliant." He kissed Lily's stomach and then leaned his cheek against it. "I'll teach you Quidditch though," he said in a quieter voice._

 _Lily's hands brushed through James' hair. "We're both going to be brilliant parents," she said. "Except for the times when we bollocks it up completely. And there will be plenty of those." She pulled her husband to his feet and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Twirl me please," she commanded. "The baby wants it."_

" _Well, what the baby wants . . . " said James with a smile._

The memory ended and Ginny looked up at Harry. He was staring down into the bowl as if he wanted to pull his parents out of it, into the room. She wiped a tear off his cheek, and then off her own.

"They had no idea, then," he said softly. "They still thought they had time. Time for each others, and me, and . . . other children." He shook his head. "They were so happy."

"They remind me of us," said Ginny. She took Harry's hand. "Do you want to see the next one?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, please," he said thickly.

 _Lily and James were dancing again, this time in their own living room. A small baby with dark hair that stood up all over his head balanced in their arms between them. Harry was chortling and waving his arms around as James twirled and dipped him and Lily._

" _Happy Valentines Day," James sang softly. He straightened up and pulled Lily close. "I love you both," he whispered softly into her neck. He looked around the room. "I wish we could be in a garden like last year."_

 _Lily snuggled close, adjusting Harry on her hip. "As long as we're all together, I don't really care. It's not forever."_

" _I hope not," sighed James. "I hope Dumbledore is making progress figuring out Voldemort's weaknesses. If he has any. I'm beginning to think Dumbledore's the only one powerful enough to kill him. I just feel helpless, hiding here."_

 _Lily stroked down his arm. "I know; I do too," she said. "But it's worth it, if it keeps Harry safe."_

 _James looked down at his son. "It definitely is, that's for sure." He kissed the boy's head. "Remember last Valentines Day, when I said I couldn't believe how much I already loved him? Well, that was nothing to how I feel now."_

" _I know," smiled Lily. "And despite all your fears, you've a mostly brilliant father."_

 _James pulled back in mock consternation. "Mostly? I think I've been pretty close to perfect so far."_

" _This from the man who almost got sick in the loo the first time he had to change a dirty nappy?"_

 _James kissed her. "I didn't know about odor canceling charms yet," he laughed. "I'm much better now." He spun her around "I can't wait to buy him his first toy broom! Maybe for his birthday."_

" _Let him learn to sit up on his own first," Lily said. "And then we can think about teaching him to balance on a broom."_

" _For his birthday," said James firmly. He plucked Harry out of Lily's arms. "I think it's time for a our second annual Valentines Day love letter, what do you think?" He tossed the boy into the hair and grinned as Harry laughed._

" _So, little man, here we are, your first Valentine's Day. It's certainly been quite a year, hasn't it? Your birth was definitely the highlight." James shifted Harry into his other arm so he could pull Lily more firmly into his embrace._

" _And there have been some . . . not so wonderful things that have happened too, of course. Hopefully by next Valentines Day, we will all be celebrating happily somewhere other than alone in our sitting room." He shook his head as if to clear it. "But enough of that, today is a day for love! And all I can say, Harry, is that your mum and I love you more than anything else in the world, and every day more." His voice went rather misty and Lily ran her hand down her husband's cheek._

" _It's true," she said. "Being a mum, being_ _ **your**_ _mum, is the greatest gift I could ever ask for. You dad and I love you so much, and we love watching you grow and change every day."_

 _James wiped his eyes. "Your mother is quite brilliant, isn't she?" he kissed Lily gently on the lips. "I hope that someday you find someone who you love as much I love your mother." He looked Harry in the eye. "And when you bring her home to meet us, I promise not to embarrass you too much with stories and pictures of you in the bath."_

" _We make no promises about what Sirius might tell her though," added Lily. "So watch out for your godfather."_

 _Somewhere, a clocked chimed seven and Lily took up Harry again. "This little man needs a bath before bed," she said._

 _James grabbed Lily around the waist. "Let me come help you," he said. "And once he's down, I'll be able to give you my 'special' present." He trailed kissed down her cheek and Lily closed her eyes for a moment._

" _It's a deal," she said softly._

This time, Harry gave a watery chuckle as he and Ginny emerged from the Pensieve. "I think I'm very glad the memory ended there," he said.

Ginny reached up and kissed him. "There are some things a child just doesn't need to see," she agreed.

Harry pulled the next vial out of the box, and then the next. He frowned. "They're empty," he said quietly. "That's all there is."

"I'm sorry, Harry," said Ginny softly. She rubbed her hand down his arm.

"I wish there were more, dozens more," he sighed. He carefully packed the vials back into the box and closed it before setting it on the bookshelf. He rested his hand on it for a long moment before turning back to Ginny. "But what a gift, to have those," he said. He took her in his arms again. "Before, I could only imagine."

Ginny rested her head on Harry's chest. "I'm so glad I got to see them. And you as a baby," she said. "You were adorable."

Harry kissed her hair. "I was, wasn't I?" he asked. Now that he'd been to Godric's Hollow and faced the memories there, he felt oddly light. "Nice to know my parents had no idea how to tame my hair either." He pulled Ginny flush against him and dropped his lips to hers. "Wanna do it in the kitchen again?" he asked, groaning with pleasure when Ginny grabbed his bum and pulled him closer.

"The kitchen," she agreed. "And then maybe the shower."

HPHPHPHPHP

 _Harry and Ginny were dancing in a garden. There was snow piled around the edges and pink and red fairy lights glowed overhead. Other couples were there too; Ron and Hermione twirled and dipped near them, but Harry and Ginny moved sedately, one of Harry's hands cupped protectively around the curve of Ginny's belly. She laughed._

" _I'm not breakable, you know."_

" _I don't care," mumbled Harry into her neck. "I want to be extra cautious."_

 _Ginny laughed again. "You're just like your dad," she said._

 _Harry held her tighter. "I'm thinking of them too," he admitted. "They would love the idea of being grandparents." He leaned his head down towards Ginny's waist. "How is little James or Lily doing?"_

" _He or she . . . is just fine," said Ginny. "They like the music. I've been feeling more movement."_

 _Harry straightened up and leaned his head against Ginny's. "I know what my dad meant, that he loved them so much already," he said. He held Ginny closer. "We're lucky."_

 _Ginny kissed him. "This is the place where anyone else would point out that it was all your hard work that got us here," she said lightly._

 _Harry chuckled. "All of **our** hard work," he corrected. He looked at all the dancing couples. "It was nice of Ron and Hermione to pick Valentines Day for their wedding. I like dancing with you."_

 _Ginny grinned. "And I like the fact that I still fit in this bridesmaid's dress," she said._

 _Harry looked down at her stomach. "I want to tell the baby how much I love him or her," he said softly. "Every year."_

" _For many, many years," Ginny agreed._

 _Harry led Ginny to the edge of the dance floor before sitting down in a chair in front of her. He spoke softly to her belly, so softly, she could just make out the words. When he finished, he waved his wand and sent the memory away for safekeeping in a rush of silver. Then he stood up and wrapped his arms around her again and they swayed together. "My family," he said contentedly. He started. "It kicked!"_

" _You know, there's another type of physical activity the baby likes even better," Ginny said slyly. "We've already given our speeches; no one will notice if we slip away for a bit."_

 _Harry leaned down to give her a deeper kiss. "Just promise me that the memory we make is not one that will be memorialized anywhere," he said._

 _Ginny grinned. "It's a deal."_


	13. Whiskey Glasses

A/N: A shorter version of this was originally published under a different pen name. It's a completely standalone story, unrelated to any of the others here - I was experimenting writing in the third-person present tense. I've decided it's not my favorite style; I feel like the action and emotion feel a little farther away, but I think it works okay here.

The Firewhiskey is hot and the ale, ice cold. Putting them together creates a warm glow in the glass and a warm glow in Ginny's belly. The first is lovely. It makes the pub seem livelier, her friends more amusing, and Ginny herself feels witty and content.

The second combination goes down nearly as easily. If the pub becomes a little fuzzy around the edges afterwards, it doesn't really seem to matter. Everything is funny, and Ginny is just _delighted_ to be there with everyone. Maybe this second drink did something to her judgment – just a little bit - because when a third presents itself in front of her, it seems like a really good idea to throw it back with the rest of the crowd.

It's only when the steam clears from her ears and her eyes stop streaming that she looks up to see her most recent benefactor. And if she can't immediately put two words together in thanks, well then, that's the fault of the three large icy-hot whiskey bombs. It's most certainly not because Harry is standing there in front of her, his easy grin showing its own hint of more than a little imbibing tonight.

The whiskey most certainly can also be blamed for what Ginny does next, throwing her arms around Harry with glee, as if she hadn't seen him in months, as opposed to just the previous Sunday at the Burrow.

He stumbles back a step at her enthusiasm, and she trips and almost falls herself, but then his arms shoot out to steady her and damn, if they don't just stay there, wrapped around her waist.

"Hey Gin." Harry's voice is a little slow, a little slurred, and she wonders for a moment exactly how many whiskey bombs he's had. But his arms stay where they are and that is something new for them, so she focuses on the feeling instead. He'd touched her arm – twice – last week at the Burrow, and then there was the backrub she'd given him after dinner at Hermione's, of course. That damn backrub she'd had to explain, over and over again to her friend and her brother, that meant _absolutely nothing_. Nothing at all except that she and Harry were friends and he'd been sore from work.

But now his arms are locked in place at her waist even though the chance of her falling is long past, and it feels like more than friendship that's keeping them there. It's not an arm, flung casually around her shoulders (his other arm had been around Ron), nor her feet in his lap (because the sofa at the Burrow is really too small for two to spread out comfortably). It's warmer, and firmer, and is does she feel him trembling?

Or maybe it's her.

She shuffles so she can look up in his face and Harry is watching her, his eyes brighter than normal. There's a question in them instead of a smile and she hopes that she's not too drunk, not yet, to give the right answer.

"Ummm." It's not specific, but not a rejection either.

"Yeah," agrees Harry. He apparently feels the same way. And then, "d'you want a get a drink?" He gestures with a free hand towards the bar.

It's probably not a smart idea, for Ginny to have another drink. She's already perfectly buzzed, maybe even a little more than buzzed. _Definitely_ even a little more than buzzed. Harry is too, she suspects. But he's leading her away from the group and his hand is on the small of her back and it almost feels possessive, the way he helps her part the crowd. Normally, Ginny doesn't like to be _possessed_ , but it's different right now. She giggles, and Harry looks at her curiously.

"What, Ginny?"

She just manages to bite back the words she'd been about to tease him with - _you of all people know how much I don't like to be possessed._ He wouldn't think it was funny, Harry wouldn't. Or maybe he'd even forgotten again. Like he did at Grimmauld Place.

"It's nothing," she says quickly. "Jus' thinkin' about what I want to drink. Next. What I want to drink next." She tries to make her words precise. _I'm not that drunk._

Harry leans close. "You're not that drunk?" he asks, and Ginny realizes she spoke out loud. Harry knocks his hip against hers. "Neither'm I," he says. "Yet."

"Get me a Firewhiskey Harry, the good stuff." Ginny points at what she hopes is an expensive bottle.

"Make it two," Harry nods, and the bartender puts glasses in front of them. It certainly looks better than the whiskey that went into the icy-hot bombs. The flames dance around in the glass and climb up the sides in red and orange and gold swirls, and for a minute, Ginny can't stop staring at them.

"It's pretty," she says, twirling her glass.

"So're you," Harry says. When Ginny looks at him he turns red and quickly swallows his drink.

Ginny doesn't know what to say to that so she grabs her drink too. By the time the warmth and flames have died down to a more pleasant temperature in her stomach, she thinks it's okay to completely change the subject.

Unfortunately, her drink-addled brain seems to have other ideas.

"I like your shirt," she says, touching the fabric where it pulls taut against his stomach. Ginny has always assumed Harry has abs, and what her fingers feel beneath the soft cotton only confirm that belief. Harry jumps briefly at her touch, but then he relaxes into her. His hand is back at her waist and yeah, it still feels good to have it there.

"Wanna go . . .?" he asks.

This is an important question, Ginny knows. But there is still – luckily – a piece of her brain looking out for her. She tries to force that piece to ask the right thing.

"Go where, 'zactly?" Its work done, the last sober piece of Ginny's brain retreats underneath the ocean of drink, and the rest of it waits impatiently for Harry to respond.

Harry's brain seems to be having similar trouble though. He looks around. "Uhh . . . the loo?" He shuffles awkwardly. "I actually hafta go to the loo."

Ginny does too, she realizes. In fact, as soon as Harry mentions it, it's all she can think about. Well, almost all she can think about. "Me too," she says. "And then . . .?" She wants to make sure she gets another chance to feel Harry's hand on her waist.

Harry's shuffling again. "And then . . . yeah," he says. It's not much, but Ginny really has to pee, so she takes it, and takes Harry's hand, and they both walk to their respective bathrooms.

Of course, it takes Ginny longer – she remembers Demelza once saying that there's nothing like trying to balance over a pub toilet to pee to make you realize exactly how much you've had to drink, and Ginny realizes that yeah, she's had a lot to drink. And when she comes out, at first she doesn't see Harry. She's swaying a bit, and trying not to, as she walks back towards the bar when a hand reaches out and wraps around her again. _Ohhhh good._

"Let's go . . . let's go out th' back." Ginny realizes this is a _very good idea_ because all of their friends, and prob'ly a couple of her brothers are at the front of the pub. The waitress is levitating another big tray of whiskey bombs over that way so maybe no one would even notice them anyway, but yeah, sneaking out the back door with Harry seems like a much better idea.

On their way, the bartender gives them a smirk and then hands them each a glass "for the road", and Ginny should probably say no but she doesn't. Instead, she and Harry clink glasses and she thinks she should say something witty but all she can think of to say is "to snogging" and Harry's eyes grow wide and so does his smile, and before Ginny can even feel embarrassed, he's nodding in agreement. "To snogging. And whiskey."

"To whiskey," Ginny says.

"It's March outside the pub, and that's a good thing. The cold air doesn't sober Ginny up, not at all, but it feels good against her skin and when she breathes it into her lungs.

Harry's breathing too, with his eyes closed, and when he opens them again, they find her and smile. Questions have been answered.

"Better not . . . App'rate," he says, sounding as drunk as Ginny feels.

"Better not," she agrees. She thinks maybe there's another question she needs to ask, but then Harry is there, in front of her, and she forgets everything.

They've never kissed before, but yeah, maybe Ginny's thought about it, once or twice. What it would be like to feel Harry's lips on hers. And maybe she'd imagined them less tipsy and more deliberate when it happened, but as soon as Harry leans in it doesn't really matter anymore.

But they are both drunk, and Harry stumbles, just barely managing to reach out and grab at the alley wall behind Ginny's back before he falls completely into her. As it is, his mouth hits hers with more force than is probably necessary and Ginny jumps and makes a sound of surprise and just a little bit of pain.

"Sorry, sorry," says Harry. He regains his balance and one hand is still behind her on the wall and the other grabs at her waist and this time when they meet, it makes more sense.

Ginny can taste the whiskey on his lips and she assumes he tastes the same on hers, and it's sweet and smoky and sharp, all at once. Ginny arranges herself more neatly against him, and Harry stops and groans. When he starts again, his kisses are more frantic and she's not sure who opens their mouth first but suddenly they are not just kissing, but _snogging_ , there in the alley, and it's absolutely brilliant.

Harry presses close and Ginny thinks that maybe she feels _him_ down there, but her drunk brain doesn't let her focus on that beyond how good it feels to be wrapped up in Harry's arms, kissing frantically.

Ginny's almost out of breath when they finally pull apart, and Harry is too. She can see his eyes are glazed, and she doesn't know whether it's from the kissing or the whiskey, and for the first time, Ginny wishes that she was just a little bit more sober, so she could figure that out.

Harry's still breathing heavily, and he leans against the wall of the alley next to her and grabs her hand.

"I've wanted t' do that for ages."

Ginny isn't sure she's heard him right.

"Do what, Harry?"

His eyes are closed. "Kiss you. Wanted t' kiss you for ages n' ages." He opens his eyes and looks at her. "Guess it took whiskey t' get you t' want to do it back?" He shakes his head. "Sorry. I'm really drunk. Ferget I said anything."

Ginny's really drunk too but maybe it's finally helping her say the right things because she squeezes his hand and turns so she's facing him again.

"This isn't just whiskey glasses, Harry. I've wanted t' kiss you too. For ages 'n ages." And to prove her point, Ginny leans in and kisses him again. He kisses her back, and cups his hand against the back of her head. It's less frantic now, though, and when they stop, Harry leans his head against the wall.

"Wish I wasn't so drunk," he mumbles. He opens his eyes. "I wanna kiss you sober too, some time. If you want me to."

Ginny's exhausted, and she can't help but lean her head on Harry's chest and close her eyes. "Yeah," she mumbles back. "Sober."

"D'you have hangover potion at your flat, Ginny? Cause you're going to need it." Harry's voice seems far away. "I hope I have some too," she thinks he says. "Hmm, where did I put it?"

"I do, somewhere," she says. The rest of Harry's words don't penetrate farther. "Jus' gotta manage the Floo." She opens her eyes. "Think th' bartender will give me some water first?"

The noise of the pub seems louder than ever but the water helps clear Ginny's head enough to imagine facing the Floo home. Harry touches her arm as she stands by the fireplace and now she can't tell if it's just a friendly gesture again. But then he speaks.

"I meant it, Ginny. I wanna kiss you sober too."

Ginny feels a warmth that probably has nothing to do with whiskey but she's just too tired to think enough about it. She steps into the fireplace and grabs some floo powder before she forces herself to nod at Harry. "I'd like that," she says, before calling out the name of her flat and swirling away.

Whiskey glasses indeed.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

The next morning is uncomfortable, but not torture, for Ginny. She's pleased to have remembered to drink a swallow of the hangover potion and a big glass of water before falling into bed the night before. Her bigger dose today works better that way, and she's able to drowse lazily in bed without worrying about needing to make an emergency run to the loo.

And drowsing in bed is the perfect place to try to remember exactly what had happened last night; the potion helps headaches, not fuzzy memories.

She and Harry kissed; of that, Ginny is certain. The back of Ginny's head is a little tender and she's pretty sure she hit it on the wall of the alley when Harry lost his balance. She rubs it idly and pushes her reluctant brain to think harder. Harry had kissed her first, she's pretty sure of that. And . . . although this is far less certain, she thinks he said he'd been wanting to for a while. Wanting to kiss her, that is.

Ginny leans back against her pillows. The hangover potion isn't perfect, and thinking too much makes her head start to ache again. She closes her eyes and lets her thoughts flow where they may instead. _Much better._ Now she can recall the way Harry's eyes looked at her, and the way his hand felt, cupping her face before he kissed her. She remembers the kisses too, but it's fuzzier than she'd like. _What had Harry said? Did he really want to kiss her sober too?_

That's the important thing. Ginny's pretty sure she told Harry she'd wanted to kiss him for a long time, but had he told her first? She thinks he had. She hoped he had. It didn't really matter who said it first, she thought, if they both said it. Still, she hoped he'd said it first.

 _Maybe she can ask him._

Maybe she's still a little drunk, just a little, because asking Harry if he said it first seems like a pretty good idea. But luckily, she's mostly sober, and that makes her realize that maybe she should just Floo call him instead of, say, Apparating to his flat. Yes, a Floo call is definitely in order.

Ginny's only a little embarrassed that she takes the time to brush the nest of tangles out of her hair first. And changing out of her stretched-out t-shirt into a proper pajama top seems a smart plan as well. It's only when she's wrapped in blanket in front of her fireplace and has already thrown the powder inside that it occurs to her that Ron and Hermione might be at the flat too. She hopes they slept at Hermione's last night.

"Harry's flat!" she calls in a firm voice. If Ron answers, well, she'll just have to make something up.

It takes a long time, and Ginny wonders if maybe Harry isn't home; she hopes Ron and Hermione aren't there and just . . . _busy._ She's about to pull her head out of the Floo when a quiet, unhappy sound makes her stop.

"Harry?" she asks cautiously.

"I'm here," he says, and then he is, and he looks _terrible._ Bleary eyes peer at the green flames. "Ginny? Are you okay?"

Ginny can't help but feel a little rush of warmth at the concern in Harry's voice. She nods her head. "I'm fine. Really fine," she says. Her purpose for contacting Harry changes on a knut as another fuzzy image drops into her head. "Are you okay? I remember . . . I think I remember you saying you didn't know where your hangover potion was?"

Harry groans. His head bobs gingerly, as if too much movement will topple it off his neck altogether. "Couldn't find it," he agrees. "Ron n' Hermione weren't here to help me look." He winces. "Still aren't."

 _That's one thing sorted, at least._

He looks so miserable, the next words tumble out of Ginny's mouth before she can stop to think.

"I have a little potion here, want me to come through?" She could just hand it to him, of course, but that feels so impersonal. They kissed quite a bit last night, and the least Ginny can do is offer Harry some measure of relief.

 _As thanks?_

Ginny banishes that thought. _As friends._

Harry is rubbing his eyes and at first Ginny isn't sure he's heard her, but then he gives another of those tiny nods. "Yes, please," he says thickly.

Ginny runs back to her room and grabs the bottle, sorry to see how little of the liquid still sloshes inside. She'd been rather desperate for relief herself this morning. It worked though, and Ginny's trip through the Floo happens without incident.

Harry is slumped against the back of his sofa on the floor, and Ginny suspects he collapsed where he was as soon as she said she was coming over. He doesn't open his eyes, just holds out a shaky hand, and she presses the bottle into it.

He drinks it down in a swift gulp and holds out his hand again. "More?"

Ginny shakes her head and then realizes Harry's eyes are still closed. "Umm, that's all there is, I'm sorry." She feels stupid for drinking almost all the potion herself even though there's no reason for her to feel guilty. "It's better than nothing though, right?"

"Yeah," Harry rasps. "Helps." He opens his eyes. "Thanks." Single syllables seem all he can manage right now and Ginny feels another un-deserved stab of guilt.

"Can I get you some water? Help you to bed?" She doesn't know if Harry's the type to want to be alone when unwell, but at least she won't leave him on the floor.

"Water," Harry agrees in a tired voice. "Need to lie down."

That's five entire words and Ginny's encouraged. She moves towards him, but Harry struggles to his feet on his own, leaning heavily against the back of the sofa. He does an odd sort of flop over it and stretches out, face pressed into a cushion.

Ginny has to bite back a laugh. She's seen most of her brothers in a similar state on one occasion or another, and she knows amusement is to be reserved for when Harry is feeling better. And really, but for the potion she would surely be in the same place. She picks up a red throw pillow and holds it awkwardly above him. "I have a pillow, if you want it."

He holds out his hand much as he'd done for the potion and she puts the pillow into his hand before retreating to the kitchen. It's clean, and the counters are mostly clear, but an examination of the cupboards reveals than neither Harry nor Ron cares at all about how they organize their things. Boxes of pasta share shelf space with plates that are themselves piled high with silverware and napkins. In the third place she looks, Ginny finds pewter cup, wedged under what looks like a never-opened wizarding cookbook that no doubt came from her mum. Inside the cup is a familiar crystal bottle and Ginny grins.

Harry has managed to get the pillow under his head but he's still scrunched awkwardly where he landed on the sofa cushions. His eyes are shut and he gives no indication he knows she's there. Ginny reaches a hand out and tentatively touches him on the shoulder. "Uhh, Harry?"

He grunts.

Ginny grins again. "You may want to open your eyes and see what I found," she teases. "Unless you want your hangover to stay around the rest of the day."

That does the trick. Harry cracks an eye. "What?"

Ginny holds up the vial. "There's another swallow or two in here, I think."

Harry swears an oath and Ginny chuckles. "That's how I felt when I found my bottle," she said.

Ten minutes later, Harry's face is not quite so green and he's sat up enough on the sofa to make room for Ginny too. He's sipping carefully at the cup of water she conjured for him, and Ginny suspects he's paying such close attention to the liquid not out of concern for his stomach but because he, like her, is not sure what to say.

Ginny's less hungover, so it's probably her job to go first, she decides.

"So, about last night . . ." she begins hesitantly.

Harry looks up from his water.

This is harder than she thought. The truth is right there, and she wants to say the words, but . . . they were very drunk last night, for Merlin's sake. It's hard to trust anything that happens when you're drunk.

"I was very drunk," she says, and cringes. It sounds like she's about to let him down easy. She quickly shakes her head. "But that doesn't matter, that I was drunk. Even if I'd been sober, I'd have wanted . . ." the confession is on the tip of her tongue, but Ginny stops. Again, she finds herself wanting to know if Harry will say it first. That's ridiculous, of course. Ginny has never played anything at all like some of the silly girls in her class, acting dumb, letting the blokes make all the decisions. What does it matter if she tells Harry what she feels before he tells her? He was the first one last night to say it; there's no reason she can't say it now.

"I would have kissed you anyway," she blurts out, before she can talk herself out of it. "I think I said it last night, but I've wanted to kiss you for ages."

There. It's out there and she can't take it back. And as she sits on Harry's sofa and waits for him to respond, Ginny realizes it's okay, whatever he says. Because it's true; she _has_ wanted to kiss him for ages and she strongly suspects this is more than a crush. If he doesn't feel the same way, then she really needs to know sooner rather than later. She knows she hasn't imagined his glances and his touches, and she knows she's been giving them right back. But maybe, for Harry, it hasn't really _meant_ anything; maybe he was just flirting. Maybe the kiss last night – the snogging last night – was just the natural culmination of all that. Maybe he's satisfied now and ready to continue just being her friend and her brother's best mate. Maybe . . .

"I'm glad I kissed you last night. And I meant it when I said I wanted to kiss you when I was sober too." Harry is looking at her earnestly and Ginny's skittering brain slows down. She keeps quiet, knowing he's not finished.

"Actually, when I kiss you sober, I'd like it to be after I take you out on a proper date." Harry gives her a hesitant, questioning smile and Ginny can't help but smile back. She realizes that she hoped more than she wanted to admit that Harry would say something like that.

"I'd like that," she says, and Harry's smile grows a little bigger. "When we're both feeling better," he promises. He shuffles on the sofa and she waits again.

"I'm sober enough now to kiss you though, if you want. I did actually brush my teeth this morning."

It makes Ginny laugh, to hear that. "I brushed my teeth too. Twice, " she assures.

And when they come together for a kiss, Ginny realizes that it was not just the whiskey last night that made her think Harry was a lovely kisser. It feels as good as she's imagined in way too many recent daydreams, and she feels herself smiling against Harry's lips as he deepens the kiss and wraps one arm around her back.

When they break apart, Ginny is lightheaded, and she knows it's not from her residual hangover. "Wow," she says. "That was . . ."

"Yeah," Harry agrees. "I'd hoped, but I wasn't sure."

"Now we can both be sure," she says, and Harry takes her hand.

"I still want to take you on a date. Somewhere we can talk. Somewhere none of your brothers might see us."

"Somewhere they don't serve whiskey," she laughs.

"I'm not sure I'm ever drinking whiskey again," Harry says. He smirks. "Although, if it made me have the courage to kiss you, I can't say it's all that bad."

Ginny has to agree. As she gathers her things and prepares to Floo home – they both need showers and naps and _time to think –_ she's pleased at how they are leaving things. They are leaving them just for a couple of hours, and that is fine with her.


	14. In the Pond

A/N: I'm having a bit of writer's block with respect to my new fics right now, so I'm going to continue uploading some of my older stuff while I try to get my brain working again. This was the original chapter of Watching and Waiting, and you can thank deadwoodpecker for challenging me, many years ago, to try to write something this explicit.

Harry was distracted. Despite the beautiful day, despite the peace, despite the dozens of friends and family members who had come to the Burrow for a huge end-of-summer party, all he could think about was the sight that had greeted him that morning, when he had wandered into Ginny's room to call her down for breakfast. Even hours later, standing in the yard supposedly talking Quidditch with Ron and Seamus, Harry felt himself twitch and strain against his boxers at the memory of his girlfriend laying on her bed, her hands between her legs, the sundress she was wearing that day hiked up around her waist.

Ginny had rigged the wards on the door to her room so that no one but Harry could enter unannounced. So intent was she on her task that she had no idea he was there, and Harry could do nothing but stare, mesmerized. She was leaning back against the pillows piled on her bed, eyes closed, her legs bent at the knees. One hand grasped the inside of her thigh, as if to hold it in place, but Harry saw her thumb, moving back and forth, slowly rubbing the sensitive skin. The other hand . . .well, seeing it and what it was doing made Harry's breath hitch in his throat and everything below his belt tighten. Almost unconsciously, he reached down to grab himself through his shorts, feeling himself grow hard, but unwilling to focus fully on his own needs, lest he miss something.

She was not wearing any knickers. Her hand was moving in lazy, but tight, circles around the small, firm nub that Harry had gotten to know better and better these last weeks. It was the place she always liked him to start when they were together, a warm-up to later activities. Her fingers obviously knew exactly what they were doing, for even as Harry watched, she clenched around her hand for a moment, her hips lifting off the bed and then falling back, the circles of her fingers growing faster.

Ginny's legs fell open wider and Harry found himself with a clear and unobstructed view of her mysterious parts, the ones he had been trying to learn and master ever since the two of them had become intimate. From his angle, he could see every one of her soft folds, swelling and darkening now around her warm opening as her hand above became more frenzied. Ginny's hips were thrusting more regularly against an invisible partner, and without breaking the rhythm of her circles, her other hand snaked over and positioned itself, thumb gently against her clit, two fingers teasing themselves around her entrance, but not yet disappearing inside.

"Ohhhhh," she moaned suddenly, as if with relief, and then grunted as her fingers finally penetrated.

Harry had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle his own groan. He pushed his penis against his hand roughly, needing release, but knowing that if he gave into his own ache, he wouldn't be able to focus fully on the sight before him.

He looked then at Ginny's face, and it was nearly his undoing. Her head arched back against the pillows of the bed, her teeth grasped at her lower lip, her brow furrowed as she concentrated. Although Harry had brought Ginny to climax many times before with his mouth, his hands and his penis, he had always been too focused on his task, or on his own mounting pleasure, to watch Ginny's face in detail. It was a sight to behold.

As Harry gazed at her, her breath began coming in shorter gasps and he glimpsed her tongue work its way out to lick her lips. Her hips thrust first down into the mattress and then up again, pushing firmly against her hand. Glancing back down, he watched as she clenched around the fingers buried deep inside, squeezing and grinding, and he throbbed, imagining his own length pushing aside her hand to seek entrance, filling her more fully than she could herself. But he couldn't tear himself away from the sight enough to move.

Harry steadied himself against the wall, barely aware that his own hips were grinding into his hand, thrusts matching hers. So often he had masturbated to this exact image and yet, seeing it before him for real was more intense than he could have ever imagined. The soft mewing sounds now coming from Ginny's mouth, the look on her face that said she was so close, and trying to draw it out as long as possible, the soft, musky scent that rose from between her legs, reminding him of all the glorious times that he had buried his face in her, exploring and tasting and bringing them both pleasure.

Harry didn't think he could stand it for much longer, and he had moved his hand to his own zipper, needing to get inside and have release, when Ginny suddenly grunted "Harryyyy." Harry started, afraid he had been caught, but Ginny's eyes were still screwed shut. Her back arched up as she came, and Harry watched as she trembled, her legs shot out, stiff and straight, and then tightened around her hand. Harry could see the tiny, but intense contractions around her fingers, as her entryway opened and closed in its own rhythm, vibrating with contained energy that Harry could practically feel flying off of his girlfriend. She pumped her hand gently a few more times, squeezing out every bit of pleasure, lightly stroking her clit, and jumping when her ministrations shocked the sensitive flesh.

Harry backed out of the room then, not realizing until that moment that he had left the door wide open. For some reason, he didn't want to disturb Ginny or the look of intense pleasure and calm that graced her features as she tried to control her breathing. He could hear Molly downstairs still calling everyone to breakfast, but Harry had to make a first, quick stop in the loo. His wank was physically relieving but not terribly satisfying otherwise. He wished he could have finished himself while still watching Ginny bring herself to orgasm.

And that was why Harry had been distracted the rest of the day. Every time Ginny brushed a soft kiss on his lips or ran her hand absentmindedly across his shoulders as she passed him his entire body tingled with want. He volunteered for as much physical activity as he could to help get the Burrow ready for the party, desperately trying to keep his ever present erection under control. In retrospect, it might have been better to alert Ginny to his presence in her room. They could have had a quick shag and Harry would not have found himself trying to picture Hagrid in a thong bikini in an attempt to keep his arousal hidden from everyone. But even in the face of such difficulties, there was a part of Harry that was enjoying his secret. More than enjoying, really. It was a fucking turn on, remembering Ginny, knowing that even she had no idea what he had seen.

That was part of the problem. Harry was spending as much time trying to relive the sights and sounds of her bedroom as he was trying to banish them away so he could focus on, well, walking and talking. Quite frankly, walking and talking were overrated.

As more and more of their friends arrived at the Burrow, Harry was temporarily able to push his memories of the morning from his mind. He was a bit more attentive, and Ginny stopped giving him quizzical looks and asking him if everything was alright when he missed answering a question of hers for the third time in a row. They broke out the butterbeer and Firewhisky and as the day waned, Harry began to believe that he would in fact be able to survive until later in the evening to make good on all the fantasies that had been running around in his mind all day.

And then everyone decided to go swimming after dinner.

One look at Ginny in her ice-blue bikini, her hair pulled away from her face in a messy pony-tail, and all the blood Harry believed he had in his entire body rushed to the space between his legs. He was hard before he even had time to contemplate the fact that he was wearing nothing more than a thin pair of bathing trunks that did nothing to hide his condition. Praying that no one had noticed, he dove suddenly into the water of the pond, thankful for its murkiness, and swam halfway across before he was under control enough to stand up again. He would just have to avoid looking at her, or touching her, or being anywhere near her, for a while.

Yeah right.

Ron had already grabbed Hermione around the waist and was lifting her to his shoulders for a chicken fight. Ginny threw herself into Harry's arms, seemingly having no idea what she was doing to him, and started climbing up his own body to face Hermione.

Harry couldn't help it. As he grabbed her arse to lift it higher, he quickly slipped one finger inside the bottom of her bathing suit, sliding it into her as far as he could reach and then wiggling it a bit. She gasped, her entire body tensing as Harry pulled her to him, his face now even with her crotch, which he kissed through her suit before withdrawing his finger and boosting Ginny the rest of the way to his shoulders. She looked down at him from above, a calculating and slightly breathless look on her face, as he innocently smiled back at her.

In response, Ginny tightened her legs around him from above and rocked her pelvis into him, all the while calling out to Ron and Hermione to start the game. Harry was suddenly excruciatingly aware of the location of her clit, pressing into the back of his neck, and he swallowed hard, praying that the look on his face didn't give anything away. He stayed firmly in the deeper portion of the pond where the water could hide the erection he was now powerless to command.

As Ginny and Hermione began to wrestle each other up on the boys' shoulders, it was all Harry could do to stay in control as Ginny alternately thrust herself down on him or subtly shifted and tightened her legs. After a minute, he realized she was doing it on purpose.

It was no good. Pretending to trip over a stone at the bottom of the pond, Harry stumbled forward until Ginny toppled off his shoulders and into his arms. Quickly righting her in front of him he pressed himself firmly against her backside, groaning into her hair with relief at the feeling of pressure she provided against his ache.

Ginny leaned her head back so that her mouth was at Harry's ear. "Is this why you've been so distracted all day? Because you're randy?" The amusement was evident in her voice.

"No," growled Harry, thrusting himself firmly against her again as he slowly backed the two of them into the deeper water, not really caring who saw. "I've been so distracted all day because I watched you. This morning in your room."

They were now deep enough for Harry to slide his hands down from Ginny's waist and slip them inside her swimsuit bottom. He grasped her hips on either side and pushed her into him, lifting her a bit so that her arse rubbed against his penis, now so hard he could see the tip pushing out of the top of his swim trunks. "Before breakfast," he said meaningfully, pushing against her back again.

Ginny sucked in her breath and shivered at his words, and at the feeling of his want pressed so firmly against her. She swallowed hard, before saying thickly, "I was thinking of you, you know. I couldn't just call you up to my room and I didn't think I could get through the day otherwise." Her voice took on a suggestive timbre. "What exactly did you see?"

Harry still had his hands inside Ginny's suit, and now he began to stroke her gently, the cool water adding its own ticklish presence to the sensation of his fingers.

"I saw you touching yourself, rubbing against that place you love me to caress, right about your clit, you know?" At this, Harry moved his hand to the spot, adding just the right amount of pressure as he began to circle. Ginny moaned then, leaning her head back against his shoulder, and he felt her shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature.

The two of them had been moving slowly the entire time and now found themselves in a part of the pond that was shaded by overhanging trees. Although they could hear the party on the opposite bank, they were hidden by the branches that dipped low into the water and the deepening dusk, and Harry gave up all pretense of trying to control himself.

"What else did you see, when you watched me?" Ginny's voice was low and quiet.

"I saw you move your other hand to your clit, and begin to rub it. I saw your fingers slip inside and swirl around."

"I was imagining that they were your fingers, that you were on top of me."

"Like this?" Harry inserted his fingers into her opening. His other arm was holding her waist and as he teased his fingers around inside of her he rubbed Ginny from the outside, below her navel, push her up and down on his hand.

"Yeah," Ginny gasped, adding her own movements to his.

"And then," continued Harry, swallowing hard to try to gain some control, "and then, you called out my name, and I watched you come." He tightened his grip around her, struggling as he grunted into her hair. "Wanna . . . make you . . . come again. Want . . . to come . . . inside you. Now."

In response, Ginny turned around, sighing a bit as Harry's fingers slipped out of her. She pulled her swimsuit bottom, off and Harry grabbed her arse in both hands, lifting her to him. She leaned over enough to push down his swim trunks and he eased her onto his shaft, groaning in relief.

Harry didn't think he could have gotten any harder, but he was wrong. They had made love standing up before, but always Harry had to focus on things like balance and not dropping Ginny, and fatigue in his arms. But now, as Ginny began to slide up and down him, the water supported most of her weight so that all Harry had to think about was the fact that he was not going to last long at all. He had been thinking about being inside her all day, and there was no way he could draw this out.

"Oh god, Ginny, I'm close," he gasped, finding her lips with his and pushing her down into him.

She stopped for a minute, tightening her legs around him, and he felt her tighten her muscles inside, around his shaft, at the same time. He groaned again, thusting. "I think I'm gonna come, Ginny, I have to come."

"Not yet, you're not," she muttered, moving her hand down to the space between them. "Not until I'm there too. Hold on." She moved her hand against herself as Harry began raising and lowering her around him, struggling with the effort to wait.

"Ginny . . ." It was the most delicious agony.

"Almost . . ." Ginny was panting. "Almost there . . . Oh!" she suddenly cried out, her legs tightening around him.

"Now, Harry!"

And he let go, his orgasm almost knocking him sideways into the water. "Ginny, Ginny, Ginny," was all he could say for a moment as he pumped into her, the angle of their bodies allowing himself to penetrate more deeply than he would have thought. His arms shaking only slightly, Harry slowly came back to himself, thankful again that the water supported them both. He slid Ginny down to a standing position in front of him and wrapped his arms around her, grinning, before lowering his head for a long kiss.

"Was it worth the wait?"

Harry could barely form words. For the first time that day, he was totally relaxed. "Mmmm," he muttered into her hair, swaying in the water, enjoying the feeling of the small waves lapping against their bodies.

She smiled up at him and then grabbed his head, pushing it down towards the water. He gave her a quizzical look.

"You want me to do that, under water? Right now?"

"No, Harry," said Ginny with a smirk. "I want you to find my swimsuit bottoms."


	15. The Talk

A/N: Another old one; this is my favorite, but then, I have a huge crush on Bill. :)

Harry sighed contentedly as Ginny snuggled closer to him inside the sleeping bag she had conjured. Even sound asleep she could drive him crazy; she rolled over and hooked one bare leg firmly around his equally bare hip as if he was her own, personal body pillow. He wrapped his arms around her and watched the dying glow of the bonfire play off her hair, determined not to let his proximity to her nakedness disturb her sleep. He had just felt himself drifting off himself when a movement by the fire caught the corner of his eye.

Bill and Fleur, wrapped in towels, appeared to be returning from a late night swim.

Harry froze in place, unable to avoid Bill catching his eye. The older man grinned cheekily at Harry and gave him a thumbs up when he noticed that he was not alone in his sleeping bag, and Harry relaxed a fraction. The next moment, however, Bill's eyes widened, as he apparently remembered exactly whom Harry was dating.

Bill had started toward them and Harry was frantically trying to reach his wand without disturbing Ginny and wondering how he was going to possibly use it without drawing even more attention to his and Ginny's lack of clothing when Fleur, bless her, saved the day.

Grabbing her husband's arm and whispering rapidly to him in French, Fleur began to gently drag him in the other direction. Whatever she had been saying must have been rather enticing, Harry thought, because there was no way Bill could not have easily overpowered her and continued on his mission to murder Harry had he chosen to do so.

The last thing Harry heard before he finally located his wand and used it to cast a couple of protective spells around himself and his sleeping girlfriend was Bill hissing in his direction, "this is not what I had in mind when I gave you that talk, Potter."

Oi.

Harry considered waking up Ginny for a nice shag right then; something told him that after tomorrow morning, his bits were going to be in no shape to do much of anything for a while. Hell, he probably wasn't going to even be good for a snog, if Charlie got involved too. Damn older brothers. They might have given him scads of valuable information about how to keep his girlfriend more than happy (while having plenty of fun himself), but did they have to be related to her?

Letting himself relax a bit under the covers, Harry thought back to Easter break of his Sixth Year when everyone was at the Burrow. His secret obsession with Ginny was still unfulfilled then, which meant that the monster in his chest was roaring pretty much constantly, and Bill and Charlie decided that it was the perfect time to sit down with their youngest brother and his best mate and give them, The Talk.

At first, Harry and Ron were confused.

"Uhh, Bill?" Ron said. "Dad gave me that talk years ago. And I think Harry . . ." he looked at his friend.

Harry nodded vigorously. "Sirius," he stated. "That summer in Grimmauld Place."

Charlie grinned. "Well then, we're glad you know the mechanics of things, at least. But that has very little to do with what we're here to talk to you about.

Bill nodded seriously, but a hint of a smirk flitted across his face.

"There are certain things a bloke needs to know," he began, "that you can't really learn from a father. Or even a godfather," he added with a nod at Harry.

"I'm probably going to regret asking, but what kind of things?" asked Ron.

"Things to keep your witch as happy as possible," said Charlie, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Because if she's happy, you're going to be happy."

"I don't know," muttered Ron. "Lavender seemed perfectly happy most of the time, even though I . . . wasn't." He glanced towards the kitchen where Harry knew Hermione and Ginny were helping Mrs. Weasley clean up from dinner.

"Well, you have to pick the right girl in the first place," put in Bill. "For example, someone with a brain in her head who's interested in more than makeup and dress robes."

"Yeah," smirked Harry, "maybe someone with a whole lot of brains in her head, what do you think, Ron?" He smacked Bill's hand in a high-five, but Ron merely looked confused. "Huh?"

"Okay, okay, getting off track here," said Charlie. "We're supposed to be explaining to you how to do things for witches that are going to make them want to do things for you."

"Or, to you," added Bill.

"You mean, instead of having them cry all over you, like Cho did to Harry?" said Ron snidely.

"Hey! I thought we'd agreed to never talk about that again!" Harry cuffed Ron, who just grinned.

"Sorry mate. I must have forgotten."

"Okay, okay," said Charlie. "I think you both know the basics of kissing, but you have to understand, there's a lot more territory to be covered than just a witch's lips . . . "

In his sleeping bag, Harry grinned to himself and thought back to several articularly happy hours right after he'd first grabbed Ginny in the common room and kissed her in front of all the Gryffindors. They had been lying under a tree by the lake, Ginny's head in the crook of his arm, just talking about everything and nothing. Eventually Harry had rolled to his side and gently kissed her lips, teasing them with his tongue until they parted. He'd only kissed Ginny a couple of times, but he was already addicted. He just couldn't get enough of the feel of her tongue darting around inside his mouth, or his inside hers, or her lips mashed against his mouth while he ran his hands up and down her back . . .

Normally, it would be a serious libido-killer to suddenly hear his new girlfriend's brother's voice in his head while he was kissing her, but that day, with Ginny, Harry didn't even blink when he suddenly heard Charlie telling him and Ron to "move your lips around, boys, they love that stuff. Neck, jaw, you name it. And if you're lucky, you might even get a little lower . . ."

Harry moved so that he could reach Ginny's jaw, slowly dropping feather-light kisses up towards her ear.

"And then you suck, but gently," he heard Charlie say, and Harry grasped Ginny's earlobe in his mouth and tugged softly, while she sighed happily beneath him.

That worked so well Harry decided to go in the other direction, and slowly, he worked his way down, planting open- mouthed, wet kisses along her neck. When he got to her collarbone he paused for a second and watched as Ginny tilted her head back to give him access, and then he pushed aside the opening to her shirt so that his tongue could continue its journey almost to the top part of her chest.

"Don't forget to do something with your hands!" Bill reminded him, and he cradled Ginny's head in his palm and ran his other hand down her cheek. Her eyes were closed and her own mouth was relaxed in an easy smile and Harry silently thanked her older brothers as Ginny reached up to run her fingers through his hair before she pushed him onto his back so that she could begin some exploration of her own . . .

"Now," said Charlie briskly, once he and Bill were satisfied that Harry and Ron knew what do to with their tongues and mouths above the neck, "Erections. What do you do if you get one?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other. Was this a trick question?

"Uhh, you wank?" asked Harry hesitantly, feeling his face heat up.

Bill and Charlie both grinned. "Well, yeah, if you're alone," said Charlie. "But getting hard when you're with a girl is a different issue entirely."

"Tell me about it," mumbled Ron.

Bill smirked. "Did your magic wand frighten poor Lavender, Ronniekins?"

Ron looked tortured. "I don't know," he admitted. "I tried to never let it get close enough to touch her. I was afraid it might . . . go off. And then she'd yell at me for getting her robes all messy." He looked like he wanted to sink through the floor.

Harry couldn't laugh at his best friend. He'd never even gone far enough to have to worry about such things. He frowned. What was a bloke to do? Take a long shower beforehand? Every time?

"That's right," said Bill seriously. "You don't want to go rubbing yourself all over a witch, even though it feels bloody fantastic, now do you? Cause it might 'go off.'" He couldn't keep his straight face and he and Charlie started laughing until Ron began to get up off the couch.

"I thought you were here to help us," he said petulantly.

"Sorry Ron, sorry," said Bill, getting control of himself. "You're right. And it's very important that you get this one right because for some reason, most witches think that as long as you both have your clothes on, nothing you're doing really counts, no matter how good it feels."

"Really?" asked Harry before he could help himself.

"Really," confirmed Charlie. "But don't be surprised if she seems uncomfortable or nervous the first time she feels your arousal; any nice girl should be a bit overwhelmed by a bloke's love wand."

"Love wand?" asked Ron faintly.

"But if you ease her into the idea," continued Charlie as if there had been no interruption, "it's sure to be a good time."

"Let me teach you the cleaning spell too," Bill added. "Hopefully you'll need it."

Ginny groaned in her sleep and her hand drifted down to where her body and Harry's met. Her fingers ghosted over Harry's stomach and then dropped lower until they rested on his mostly relaxed penis.

Well, it had been mostly relaxed.

With Ginny's hand so close by, Harry shivered and felt himself twitch. He rolled a little to increase the contact and pushed himself gently into her. Things were so much easier now that they were past the embarrassment (and clothing) of those early weeks together, although Harry had to admit, their early exploration had been a lot of fun.

They had been up on Harry's bed with the curtains drawn, kissing insistently. Harry had pleaded a headache as an excuse to skive off History of Magic during Ginny's free period, and they were trying to make the most of their time before Ron came back after class. It was their first time really snogging somewhere other than outside and Harry was discovering that maneuvering himself around Ginny on a soft bed was rather different than on the hard ground. His bed had a shallow divot in the

center and there was a certain amount of rolling into each other as they kissed – no matter what Harry did, he just couldn't create any distance between them, not that he tried very hard.

But something else was hard, and getting harder, and Harry had to decide very quickly exactly what he was going to do about it.

Ginny was running her hand down his hip and across his bum, pulling him to her. Taking a deep breath, Harry rolled gently until he was nestled half on top of her, his erection now pressing into the dip of Ginny's thigh.

She started, her eyes opening wide, and Harry immediately flushed and backed off.

"Sorry, sorry about that. It just . . . I mean . . .it's there, you know? I can't help . . . but I'll keep it away. I'm sorry, really." He kept babbling, not sure what else to do, until Ginny laughed.

"It's fine, Harry, it's good." Suddenly she looked a little shy. "I mean, it means you like me, doesn't it?

"Yes!" Harry grabbed Ginny's hand. "I like you . . . a lot." He automatically thrust into her for emphasis, groaning a little at how good it felt. He looked at her. "Is this okay?"

"Well, yeah," said Ginny. "I mean, we still have all our clothes on and everything." She moved the hand he was still holding lower between them, brushing against his erection.

"Bill and Charlie are geniuses," Harry muttered to himself before moving his hand away and allowing Ginny to explore on her own.

She was tentative at first, and it was delicious torture for Harry, who dug his heels into the mattress to keep from pushing against her.

"It's getting bigger!" she marveled once, and Harry could only nod and mumble, "muh huh."

Ginny continued to lightly rub and finally Harry could not stand it anymore. Wrapping his hand around hers he pushed roughly against her palm and grunted with the release, feeling warm fluid soak his lower belly under his shirt.

Ginny looked up at him, surprise written on her face. "Did you just . . . did I . . .?"

Harry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. "Yeah. And it was brilliant."

Ginny sighed in his arms and Harry had just started kissing her lightly again on her jaw when they heard the bell ring to signify the end of class. Slowly, they disentangled themselves and sat up. Before Harry could even try to remember what else Bill and Charlie had told him, Ginny had picked up her wand and pointed it at the dark wet patch around his middle. "Erasemen!" she said softly, and the stain disappeared, leaving Harry's shirt clean and dry. He gaped at her.

"How did you . . . I thought that spell was just for blokes!"

Ginny snorted. "Let's just say I didn't learn it the same place you did, Harry,"

Arms wrapped around Ginny, Harry chuckled to himself. She certainly hadn't learned that particular spell from Bill and Charlie, but Katie Bell had apparently been a fountain of information for the younger girls at Hogwarts; she'd started dating Oliver Wood her Seventh Year when they'd both ended up in St. Mungo's – she after being almost killed by the cursed necklace and he with a Quidditch injury.

Ginny licked her lips in her sleep and Harry felt himself twitch again. Of all the subjects Bill and Charlie had covered, their lecture on oral sex had been by far the most embarrassing – and yet, the most informative too. They had begun by giving Ron and Harry a general blueprint of the female witch's anatomy and then moved on to manual stimulation before starting on the topic of oral. Harry still cracked up when he remembered the look on Ron's face when he understood that his brothers were talking to him about putting his mouth . . . down there.

"You want me to lick what?" Ron was staring at his brothers uncertainly, as if he wasn't sure they were serious. He glanced at Harry. "Have you ever . . . I mean, it's not like it's food, is it?"

Harry could tell that Bill and Charlie were doing their very best not to laugh.

"Not food, no," said Charlie finally. "But think of it as a particularly special dessert and you'll do fine."

"An ice-cream cone," suggested Bill. "If you treat it like an ice-cream cone that you don't want to melt, you'll have your witch writhing with pleasure."

"Writhing?" Now Harry was interested. He still wasn't sure how he felt about putting his mouth on a witch's, well, on that, but if the witch happened to be Ginny . . . Harry was willing to try anything. Making her writhe with pleasure. He liked the sound of that.

Ron was still confused. "But how do you know what to do, down there? I mean, what if you can't find that . . . that nub thingy you were telling us about?"

Ron looked like he wanted to sink through the floor as his brothers finally gave up trying to be serious and exploded in laughter.

Harry turned bright red too, but he also sat up a little straighter, waiting for the answer.

Bill wiped his eyes. "That's part of the fun," he said. "Doing a little exploring with your lips and tongue – figuring out exactly what your witch likes the best."

"And trust me," added Charlie, "when you do find that 'nub thingy', you'll know."

"But . . . what does it . . . I mean, does it taste . . . good?" Ron's face looked a little green.

"It does if you're doing it to a witch you really love," said Charlie.

"Exactly," agreed Bill. "The first time I went down on Fleur, and she . . ."

"Whoa!" yelled Ron. "That's more than we need to know here."

"Sorry," said Bill sheepishly. Charlie nudged him. "We all know you're dating a Veela. Show off."

Ron was shaking his head. "I'm still not so sure about this."

"What about you, Harry?" Bill asked. "You're awfully quiet there. Are you as grossed out as little Ronniekins is?"

Harry blushed and shook his head. "No," he said slowly. "I don't think it sounds . . . too bad. If it's with a witch you really love."

"Look at it this way," said Charlie. "How do you think it would feel to have a witch use her lips and mouth on your dick?"

"Amazing," groaned Harry immediately. Next to him, Ron was looking down at his crotch as if he'd never quite considered what could be done with it before. Harry knew Ron and Lavender hadn't gotten nearly that far – and Harry hadn't either, of course. He knew the mechanics of a blow job – Sirius' talk two years earlier had covered rather more than Harry wanted to hear at the time – but the thought of having . . . (Ginny) . . . a real, live witch sucking on his . . .

At this point, Harry had to shift in his seat and subtly grab himself. He sincerely hoped that neither Charlie nor Bill knew Legilimency. If either of them had any idea that Harry was currently halfway erect from thinking about their baby sister giving him a blow job, Harry wouldn't have enough of a penis left to pee out of, let alone anything else.

" . . . know ahead of time if she spits or swallows," Bill was saying.

"Excuse me, what?" Harry broke in. This sounded important.

"You need to know if your witch is going to spit or swallow . . . after," repeated Bill.

"And either way, a gentleman always warns his witch before climax," added Charlie. "And that's not as easy as it sounds. Getting a blow-job from a girl who knows what she's doing can practically be an out-of-body experience. Many a wizard has been known to spurt all over a witch's face because he forgot to yell a warning."

Spurt? Could this get any more embarrassing? Harry very carefully did not look at Ron.

"And of course, you'll want to show her you're a real man by kissing her afterwards," said Bill with a slight smirk.

Yes, yes it could get more embarrassing.

Ron was green again. "Now I know you're kidding," he said. "First you want us to lick the girl's . . . you know, and now you're telling us that we should also let them kiss us after they put their mouths on our . . .? After we've . . ."

Ron's voice had risen a bit and Harry was suddenly afraid that Mrs. Weasley would look in on them from the kitchen. Or worse, Ginny.

"It's fine," he said hurriedly, elbowing Ron. "How to be a real man, right. Got it."

Bill and Charlie had thankfully moved off that particular topic then, but Harry hadn't stopped thinking about it. Ron, he knew (after a recent night of too much Firewhisky and confessing), still harbored certain reservations about performing oral sex, but Harry had always felt rather differently, even before he'd finally kissed Ginny in the Common Room and actually had a girlfriend to do things with.

Harry and Ginny hadn't done that during their brief time together at Hogwarts, but after the War, it had only taken him a couple of weeks of snogging and exploring with his hands to suggest, hesitantly, that maybe he could try using his mouth. Just as hesitantly, Ginny had agreed.

He'd brought her to orgasm in less than five minutes.

Ginny had returned the favor – Harry had blushed brilliantly when he asked her if she planned to swallow – and it had taken only three minutes more to experience that out-of-body experience Charlie had told him about.

(Ginny did swallow – good thing, since Harry had been in no condition to warn her about anything at the time).

Now they were both crazy about going down on each other. Harry got so aroused during cunnilingus that once or twice he'd even come close to climaxing before Ginny touched him.

"Ron really doesn't know what he's missing," he murmured sleepily to himself before rolling over and finally drifting off.

Harry was having the most wonderful dream. He was floating on a cloud, but this was no normal cloud. Instead of being cold and wet, it caused little tingles of pleasure to course through his entire body. It was warm and soft, and the tingles of pleasure were getting stronger and stronger and seemed to be concentrating on one area of his body more than any other . . .

Harry opened his eyes lazily, not wanting to lose the dream. It was very dark; the bonfire had gone completely out and he could see the sky full of stars. It was warm and comfortable snuggled down in his sleeping bag and he felt so good that he wanted to keep thrusting his hips like he was.

 _When had he started thrusting his hips?_

He shook himself a little more awake. Parts of his dream were fading – had he been on a cloud? But parts of it were clearer than ever, like the delicious feelings pooling between his legs, and smooth up and down rhythm of Ginny's lips on his . . .

Harry groaned with pleasure and suddenly Ginny's face, wearing a very satisfied smirk, appeared from under the blankets.

"I was wondering how long it was going to take to wake you up," she said.

"I've been up for a while I think," mumbled Harry, "but awake for only a couple of seconds."

"Do you want me to continue?" she asked, gesturing back under the covers.

"Not . . . with your mouth," said Harry. He was starting to feel a bit more alert. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the sky at the edge of the orchard beginning to get light. No one around them seemed to be stirring, and Harry suspected that with the amount of Firewhisky and tequila that had been consumed, it would be a while.

Without saying another word, he rolled to his side and slid both arms around Ginny's waist and then rolled onto his back again, bringing her along with him.

"Aha," she said. His erection was now pressing quite insistently into her thigh, but Harry grabbed Ginny's bum and pushed her against him anyway.

"Hold on," whispered Ginny. "Where's my wand?"

"I'll do it," said Harry. He grabbed his wand and Ginny shifted on top of him so he could direct the spell to the right place. He jerked involuntarily as the contraception charm took effect.

"Thanks," Ginny said.

"No problem," said Harry. "A wizard should always share the responsibility for contraception with his witch."

Ginny giggled. "That sounds like something Percy would say."

"Not Percy, Bill." Harry shuddered. "Bill and Charlie giving me and Ron a sex talk was bad enough, can you imagine if Percy had been in on it too? He probably would have pulled out a bunch of Ministry-approved diagrams and things, and then lectured us on waiting until after marriage."

"You mean Bill and Charlie didn't tell you to wait?"

"Hah," Harry snorted. "Bill and Charlie were encouraging us to find someone to stick it in as soon as we possibly could. I think they felt like it was their mission to help us change our status as virgins." He raised his eyebrows at Ginny. "Of course, they had no idea that I was totally lusting after you at the time."

"Or that when you did finally change your 'status', that you'd be changing mine as well," agreed Ginny.

"Yeah," said Harry. "I'm rather glad about that, too. Although Bill totally caught us tonight – you can thank Fleur for the fact that I'm still alive, but we may want to get on with having sex because it might be the last time I have all my bits in proper working order for quite a while."

"What exactly did my brothers tell you about having sex?" Ginny asked. She was slowly moving her body up and down over his, and every time her curls brushed the tip of his penis, Harry shuddered, all thought fleeing his head.

"Uhhh," he mumbled. "That it's good?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yes, Harry, we all know that it's good. I was just wondering if they gave you any pointers."

"I'll give you a pointer," said Harry, holding her in place on top of him. Ginny groaned.

"That's terrible, Harry. I'm glad your technique is better than your jokes."

Harry looked at her. "Your brothers may have made a suggestion or two about technique," he admitted. "Something along the lines of, 'make sure you get her to climax first, because after you're done, there is no way you're going to be able to stay awake long enough to anything."

"Heh," snorted Ginny. "Remember the first time? You collapsed on top of me afterwards and I could barely get you to focus enough to roll off."

"I thought you liked it when I'm on top," Harry complained.

"I also like to breathe, Harry." Ginny smiled. "You've gotten much better since then."

"That's good," muttered Harry. "When your brothers warned us to be careful that we didn't 'set our wand off' too early, I didn't realize how difficult it was going to be." He kissed Ginny's nose. "That first time, I wasn't sure I was even going to get it all the way inside you in time."

"Well, you couldn't find the right spot on your first attempt, could you?" asked Ginny, giggling. "And didn't you miss on your second try too?"

Harry swatted her. "Hey, I thought we were never going to talk about that again!"

Ginny smirked. "Maybe some of Percy's Ministry diagrams wouldn't have been such a bad idea."

"I didn't hear you complaining once I finally got there, did I?"

"You were done too fast for me to have time to say anything!" Ginny teased.

"I thought we were never going to mention that again, either!"

She hadn't stopped rubbing herself against Harry the entire time and now she positioned herself at the tip of his penis and pushed herself down about an inch onto him and then back up. He groaned.

"You have much more control now," she said, before lowering herself down and then up a second time.

"Not much more," Harry mumbled. He pulled Ginny's head down until it was buried in his neck and he could kiss her hair. He ran his hands lightly up and down her back, enjoying the way she shuddered.

"We did fumble around a lot, that first time, didn't we," he said. "Especially with me trying to remember all of Bill and Charlie's instructions."

"Mmmhmmm," mumbled Ginny against his neck. Harry had started rolling his hips up against hers. He could tell every time he made contact with her clit because she shivered and tensed her legs.

"For example," he said, rolling against her three times in a row and cheering himself when Ginny shivered three times back, "I certainly couldn't get you to do that our first time, could I?" He rolled once more for emphasis.

"Uh uh," said Ginny breathlessly. She shivered again and lifted her head to look at him. "But luckily, you've gotten much better in a fairly short amount of time."

"Heh," said Harry, positioning her on top of him so that his penis sought her entrance again. He thrust firmly into her. "So have you."

For the first few days after the Final Battle and all the funerals, Harry hadn't touched Ginny much at all, other than to hold her hand and give her the occasional kiss. He was wrapped up in memories of seeing his parents, and grief over losing Remus, and trying to get to know his new godson, and did think it would be proper to do anything _frivolous._

Finally, Ginny had cornered him in the orchard after a fly and told him to stop feeling so guilty. She'd pressed herself into him, and after a second, Harry had pressed back.

Things had progressed rapidly after that – from exploring with hands, to mouth, to a discussion late one night in Ginny's room after Harry and Hermione had performed their now ritual room-switching. Harry tried very hard not to think what his two best friends might be doing in Ron's attic bedroom and Ron at least returned the favor by never asking Harry about him and his sister. Hermione was a bit more curious, and Harry knew she was aching to sit him down and ask him about his feelings for Ginny, but so far, she'd restrained herself.

He and Ginny were cuddling together in her small bed; he was running his hands randomly over Ginny's body, which was wearing only a large Weird Sisters t-shirt and a small pair of knickers. They had been talking of Harry's plan to begin Auror training in September while still coming to Hogwarts monthly for individual NEWT tutoring (not to mention teaching several DADA seminars). Ginny's hands were beginning to do a little roaming of their own when she'd asked him a question had almost caused Harry to fall out of the bed.

"What do you think the Room of Requirement would do if we went there to have sex?"

"Whaaa . . . you want . . . sex?" asked Harry faintly. His eyes focused on hers. "You want to have sex? With me?"

Ginny blushed only a little, but her voice was steady when she answered. "Well, yeah, I do." She looked at Harry, and he heard a bit of hesitance creep into her voice.

"Don't you? With me?"

"Of course I do," Harry said in a rush. Just the thought of it was getting him more aroused and he had to reach down to position himself more comfortably inside his pajama bottoms. "I just didn't think . . . I mean, I didn't want to rush you."

"I don't feel rushed," said Ginny. "I've had a year to think about it."

"We've both grown up too much in this past year," Harry commented. He wasn't trying to talk her into it if she wasn't ready, really, he wasn't, but now that Ginny had broached the topic, Harry wanted to find out exactly what she was thinking about . . . when.

"So you want to wait until we're back at Hogwarts, then." Harry tried to keep his voice neutral. Ginny looked at him in surprise.

"No! I didn't mean it that way, I was just wondering . . ." her voice trailed off and a deeper blush stained her cheeks. She didn't say anything else for a long moment.

Harry brushed his hand down her cheek. "I love you Ginny. I can wait as long as you want." He hoped the fact that his penis was twitching insistently against her didn't make him sound like a liar. But Ginny didn't seem to notice. She looked at him.

"I know that, Harry. I know you'll wait as long as I need. It's just . . ." She blushed again.

"What is it?"

Ginny reached down and grabbed the hand that Harry had rested on her hip. He saw her swallow hard, and then a shy smile played across her lips.

"I'm ready now, Harry."

The silence between them was like a living thing. It barely breathed but took up all the space in the room as Harry looked at Ginny. He was trying to make sense of her words, to get his head around what exactly she was saying to him.

"Now?" he asked stupidly.

His brain may not have understood what Ginny was saying but his body certainly did. Ginny scooted a little closer to him on the bed and he pushed her erection into her belly.

"I'm hard." He motioned needlessly between them.

Ginny reached down and stroked his length lightly and the shudder that went through Harry cleared the cobwebs from his brain.

"We're really going to do this? Now? You want to?" He wanted there to be no mistake.

"I want to," nodded Ginny solemnly. "Do you?"

"Definitely," said Harry. He rolled until he could balance on his arms above her.

 _Make sure she comes first._

Bill's voice was loud in his head and Harry froze. He'd been about to wiggle out of his pajama bottoms but now he stopped.

"Umm, d'you want to take off your knickers?" Harry suddenly felt rather shy even though he'd seen Ginny naked before – the previous day, actually.

"Okay." Ginny sounded nervous too. She pulled off her knickers and then sat up and took off her shirt as well. Then she lay back down and looked at Harry. "Now what?"

"Er . . ." Harry tried to think.

 _Use your mouth!_

"Right," Harry muttered. "My mouth." He pushed himself down Ginny's body.

"Umm, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I thought we were going to have sex."

Harry looked up at Ginny from his position between her legs. He'd already spread apart her curls and was mentally running through Bill and Charlie's instructions for going down on a witch – the "cunni-list", they'd called it. Harry could see how wet Ginny was and her musky scent was driving him crazy. He forced his mind back to her question.

"We are having sex," he said, a little confused.

"Not oral sex, Harry. I thought we were going to have sex, sex. You know, that you were going to put your . . ." she trailed off, bright red now.

Harry moved back up to Ginny's face. "Well, yeah, we are going to have sex, sex," he said. "But Bill and Charlie said I should make sure you . . . well, that you enjoy yourself first."

Now Ginny looked amused. "My brothers told you to make sure I climax first, before you have sex with me?"

Harry smirked back at her. "Well, I suspect their advice was intended to cover my having sex with pretty much every female in the Wizarding world – except you. If they had any idea what we were planning to do right now. . ." His voice trailed off and he shivered – not from arousal. He looked at Ginny. "You set the locking and silencing charms, didn't you?"

"Twice," she confirmed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you earlier – please, continue."

Harry grinned and moved back below Ginny's waist. "You just like it when I go down on you."

"Mmmhmmm," Ginny sighed.

By the time Ginny climaxed several minutes later, Harry was completely hard, all thoughts of Ginny's brothers and their lists forgotten. He was kissing her gently, trying to show at least a little restraint, even though all he wanted to do was pound into her with all he had.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Are you ready?" she asked.

"More than ready," he muttered. All he could think was how embarrassing it would be if he came before he even managed to get inside Ginny. He balanced himself above her again and began poking against her curls with his penis.

"A little higher, I think," said Ginny.

"Higher, right," said Harry. He'd assumed he would just be able to slide right in, but apparently there was a little more to it. He tried to remember if Bill and Charlie had said anything about how to find the right spot.

 _Don't forget the Contraception charm!_

It was Bill's and Charlie's voices together this time, and it sounded so real that Harry looked at the door, half expecting to see them standing there. They weren't but their message smacked him in the head anyway. He couldn't believe he'd almost forgotten. Ginny must have noticed his face change expression because she was giving him a funny look.

"Is everything okay?"

"Fine," panted Harry. "It's just that I almost forgot the contraception spell."

Ginny's eyes opened wide. "Merlin, me too. Can you reach my wand?"

"No, I got it," said Harry. He screwed up his eyes and said the words over in his head once before pointing his wand down and saying them out loud. His penis and balls tingled sharply for second and he jumped.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It just feels a bit weird for a second."

"And you're sure you got it right?" Ginny was biting her lip. "Cause if you make a mistake . . ."

"No, I'm sure," said Harry hurriedly. "I've, uhh, practiced."

Ginny groaned. "Not in front of Bill and Charlie, I hope."

Harry squirmed. "No," he said glumly. "Worse."

"Worse?"

Harry looked firmly over Ginny's shoulder as he spoke, focusing on a small crack in the wooden floor of her room as he spoke.

"Ron and I . . . we had to practice it in front of your dad. He made us after he found out Bill and Charlie had given us that talk. Apparently it's a male Weasley tradition." Harry finally looked at Ginny, expecting to see her either laughing or bright red at the thought of him demonstrating the contraception charm in front of her father.

Instead, the look on her face was . . . empathetic. She sighed, then reached up and kissed him on the nose.

"It's not only a male Weasley tradition, Harry."

Harry stared. "You mean, you . . ." Ginny nodded.

"Yep. For my mum." Her face grew thoughtful. "I wonder if she's gotten hold of Fleur or Hermione yet."

"Well anyway," said Harry. "Now we know we're safe. Can I . . . I mean, can we continue?"

"Yes please." Ginny suddenly looked shy again.

Harry positioned himself above Ginny again. He'd gone a little soft during the contraception talk, but now, looking down at his girlfriend, he immediately stiffened. She was smiling up at him with absolute trust and anticipation and in that moment he couldn't help but blurt out the words they'd only recently started saying to each other.

"I love you so much Ginny."

Ginny smiled again. "I love you too Harry."

Harry took a deep breath and pushed against Ginny's curls. The tip of his penis made contact and then slipped over to her inner thigh.

"Whoops," he said sheepishly.

"That's okay," said Ginny. She opened her legs wider. "Does that help?"

Another instruction from Charlie popped into Harry's brain. "Yeah. And can you raise your hips just a little?"

Ginny complied, Harry pushed towards her again. This time, Sweet Merlin, he went in. A little way at first, and then, with another push, almost halfway.

"I did it!" he said, panting slightly. "I'm halfway in."

"That's great, Harry," said Ginny. "Keep going."

Harry looked down. He could see the slightest image of pain on Ginny's face, even though she was still smiling. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

"A little," she admitted. "But it's okay."

"I'll try to go slow," Harry said. But as soon as the words were out of his mouth he was overcome with the urge to thrust. He pushed the rest of the way in and mumbled a quick "sorry" as Ginny winced beneath him.

"S'okay," she mumbled back. "It's better now."

Harry could barely focus. It felt so good he wanted to scream. Instead he pulled halfway out and then pushed back in, reveling in the feeling of Ginny's slick walls around him. The friction, the pressure, the warmth, it was too much.

Vaguely he remembered Bill and Charlie talking about things a bloke could do during intercourse to pleasure their witch, but all he could think about right now was himself and how to continue the sensation for as long as possible.

He reared back again and then in, already feeling his orgasm building. "Oh God, Ginny. This feels so . . . Oh God. Ginny, I'm gonna . . . I'm gonna . . ."

One more thrust and Harry came undone, wrapping his entire body around Ginny's as he climaxed inside her. He didn't realize how hard he was pushing until she grunted a little underneath him. He eased up, wincing when she moved; he was so sensitive for a moment that it was almost uncomfortable. Then he eased back down and smiled.

"That was . . . absolutely amazing Gin." His limbs felt heavy, as if they were filled with sand, and he didn't want to move.

"Good," Ginny said. Her voice was a little muffled and suddenly Harry realized that he had collapsed completely on top of her. Shuffling to the side Harry pulled her against his chest and began tracing patterns on her back.

"I'm sorry it hurt," he said.

Ginny shrugged. "It can't really be helped, I think. But it should get better and better for me every time from now on."

Harry grinned. "Yep. And I definitely need lots of practice. Bill and Charlie mentioned all kinds of positions and things we need to try. And the water! They definitely said that having sex in the water is great." He sighed happily.

"I'd like to try it in the water," said Ginny sleepily.

Harry leaned over and kissed her. He was totally exhausted, as if he'd run from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade, and was feeling completely relaxed. Right before he fell asleep he remembered something.

"Hey Gin?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't ever tell anyone I couldn't . . . find the right place at first, okay?"

"K."

Harry thrust Ginny down onto him again and held her in place. "At least it only took two more tries before I figured how to get you to climax during sex too," he said. He rolled her hips against him and saw her eyes roll back for a second as he made contact with her clit.

"Yeah," she panted. "Remind me to thank Bill and Charlie for teaching you all those positions. And suggesting we do it in the water."

"Please," said Harry, "Let's not thank Bill and Charlie for anything, okay?" Ginny was moving faster now and he didn't want to be thinking about her brothers and what they might do to him in the morning.

"Right," said Ginny. She grabbed his hands and pushed against him, back and forth. Her head rolled back and she dropped one of Harry's hands to rub herself as he thrust up into her.

The sight of Ginny pleasuring herself as she rode him was one of Harry's favorites; it fueled many of his shower fantasies when Ginny wasn't around. Now it pulled him up to the edge and he began to thrust more erratically.

"Wait for me Harry," Ginny panted. "Just another second." Her finger swirled harder and Harry felt her walls contract around him.

With a groan, Harry came too, pulling her down onto his chest to cuddle as soon as they were both finished. They lay together, slowly catching their breath, as the sun began to peek through the trees at the edge of the orchard.

Harry kissed Ginny deeply. "I love you so much, Gin."

Ginny kissed him back just as enthusiastically. "I love you too. And if you have to escape to France later after Bill and Charlie wake up, I'll come with you."

Two hours later Harry was filling his and Ginny's plate with eggs and sausages from the enormous table of food Mrs. Weasley had provided when he looked up to see Bill standing awkwardly across from him. Harry froze.

"Hey, Bill," he finally said, trying to keep his voice casual.

The older man nodded. "Harry." Then he smiled.

"Ginny looked awfully happy this morning."

Harry feigned nonchalance. "Did she?"

Bill nodded. "Yeah. She seemed very . . . satisfied. And in love." He gave Harry a stern look. "Did you remember everything we taught you?"

Harry had no idea how to answer that. He gulped and nodded wordlessly.

"And my father made you and Ron . . .?"

"Yes, yes he did," said Harry quickly.

Bill nodded again. "Okay then. Better that Ginny is with someone who's had the proper instruction then. And who understands how to show proper respect to her older brothers."

"Yes sir," said Harry formally. "And I'll always treat her and her brothers with the utmost respect and attention, I promise."

"And you'll never mention anything you may be doing with her to any of us, correct?" Bill raised his eyebrows.

"Not a word," promised Harry.

"Good," said Bill. "I'm glad we had this talk." He turned to go.

"Uhh, Bill?"

"Yeah?"

"Umm, Ron's just on the other side of those trees there, I think. And he's not alone."

Bill's eyes lit up and he grinned. "If Fleur asks, I went to wake up Charlie."


	16. In Dreams

A/N: Anyone who knows my writing (especially if you used to follow me on SIYE), knows that I love to write for challenges and fic exchanges, the fluffier the prompt, the better. This piece is for a fun exchange from the Writing, Fanfiction, and Hinny Discord server, of which I'm a part. Check it out, if you're interested. Some people there are writers, some are readers, and some are just along for the ride, but everyone loves Harry/Ginny fanfic. We have channels for reading, writing, SFW, NSFW, art, food, story discussions – sometimes with the author, and general randomness too. Come check it out, if you're so inclined.

Anyway, the prompt for the fic exchange is from HBP, and Harry's thought that the way Ginny kept cropping up in his dreams, he was sincerely glad Ron wasn't a Legilimens. The task was to write one such of those dreams, and this little tidbit just popped into my head. Enjoy!

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Harry loved Christmas at the Burrow. It didn't matter that he had no real basis for comparison; until Hogwarts, the holiday had been a nightmarish blur of being stuck inside the Dursley home, day after cold day, watching Dudley play with and then break the mountain of toys he'd gotten. But Harry couldn't imagine any Christmas could be better than one at the Weasley's, with its never-ending parade of delicious food, his own warm sweater lovingly knitted by Mrs. Weasley, and an abundance of laughter and good cheer.

That good cheer was in slightly less supply Harry's sixth year, at least as far as Ron was concerned. Harry wasn't sure if it was the weight of having a girlfriend he was realizing he didn't particularly like, or the literal weight of the ghastly necklace she'd given him for a gift, but Ron's attitude towards the holiday this year was decidedly lacking in enthusiasm. It wasn't all gloomy; Harry noticed with amusement how quickly Ron's mood seemed to improve whenever the next meal rolled around, or when everyone trooped outside for a wild game of snow Quidditch. And he'd grinned for a full twenty minutes after they'd all had a floo call with Hermione. But later that night, while everyone was sitting around drinking cocoa and trying not to listen to closely to Celestina Warbuck's latest holiday medley, Fred got a wicked look in his eye. Harry saw him elbow George and whisper something, and suddenly the tree was adorned with an enormous swath of gold tinsel that had been transfigured to spell out "My Sweetheart" in sparkly letters.

The room exploded in laughter, except for Ron, who looked like he was simply about to explode. He turned, inexplicably, on Harry. "Did you tell them about it?" he asked testily.

Harry held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Hell no, mate. I know better." Truly, Harry suspected Fred and George had been planning something ever since they'd learned Ron had a girlfriend. But Ron still looked rather mutinous.

"Whatever," he groused, standing up. "But I'm not really in the mood for company tonight. Can you find somewhere else to kip?" He looked around the room. "Like, what about with Ginny? She's the only one not sharing with anyone. Go sleep with her. I'm going to bed." With that, Ron turned on his heel and left.

Harry stood frozen, watching Ron's retreating back. _Was this also one of Fred and George's pranks?_ He didn't dare look at Mrs. Weasley, certain his face was bright red and she'd be able to tell immediately that he'd spent rather too much of the last months having increasingly inappropriate thoughts about her daughter.

But Molly was still knitting serenely, tapping her foot to Celestina's caterwauling. "That's a good idea, Ron," she said idly. Her eyes flicked up. "Okay with you, Ginny dear? Ron's in a right state. It's not fair to subject Harry to that, especially on Christmas."

Harry caught his breath. _What the hell?_ Fred and George were one thing, but there was no way Ginny's mum was in on a prank. Maybe the single shot of Firewhiskey he'd drunk earlier had been stronger than he thought? He cleared his throat.

"Err, maybe I should just . . ." he gestured weakly at the sitting room sofa.

"Come on, Harry, I promise I don't snore. It'll be a lot more comfortable in a real bed." Ginny was looking earnestly at him, and when Harry caught her eye, she bit her lower lip. "I mean, unless you don't want to sleep in my room."

"No, I do," said Harry quickly. "I umm, I think that'd be brilliant actually, to sleep with you." He stuttered. "I mean, t-t-to sleep in your bed. Instead of on the sofa. Much more comfortable." He nodded. "I'd like that."

Ginny gave him a satisfied look. "Good," she said. Then she yawned. "Actually, I'm rather knackered. Should we just head up now?"

Harry pinched the inside of his wrist. The pain was real and Ginny was still staring at him with her hand out. "Harry?" she asked.

"Go on, we'll be up soon and won't want to wait for the loo." Bill pulled his lips away from Fleur's jaw just long enough to wave Harry out of the room.

 _There was definitely something in that Firewhiskey_

Taking a deep breath, Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and followed her up the stairs.

Harry had never been in Ginny's room before, and he looked around curiously at the bright curtains at the window, the Holyhead Harpies poster on the wall, the small desk. Anywhere except to the place his gaze kept pulling him – Ginny's bed, tucked cozily under an eave. It was bigger than a camp bed, but not by much. Was he really meant to sleep there next to Ginny? They'd be so close to each other . . .

Harry felt himself start to twitch underneath his trousers. _Bloody hell, don't get hard now. She'll never let you in her bed if she thinks you're randy. She has a boyfriend, remember? This is just Ginny being nice. She thinks of you as a brother._ Harry tried to force his thoughts to a place that wouldn't encourage his erection. He stared at what looked like a burn mark on the ceiling.

"Is Fred and George's room right above . . .?" he began. A flash of red pulled his gaze down and his voice died in his throat. Ginny had turned her back to him, and her hair spilled over her shoulders as she pulled her Weasley jumper over her head and tossed it casually on her chair. Underneath was a t-shirt, and seconds later, that was gone too. Harry forgot to breathe.

"Can you help me undo my bra? The hook on this one always sticks." Ginny's back was still to Harry, but she peered over one shoulder and caught his eye. Harry could see the soft swell of her front when she turned, covered only be a bit of cloth and lace. He swallowed.

"That would be, umm . . . yeah. I mean, sure." He took a couple of steps forward, eyes firmly trained on the pale blue band that stretched across Ginny's back. Harry meant only to touch the bra, but as soon as he got close, he couldn't help brush one hand down Ginny's shoulder first. She shivered, and Harry felt himself getting hard all over again.

"If you want to give me a backrub later, I definitely won't complain," she said.

"O-okay," Harry managed. He hooked a thumb underneath Ginny's bra and pulled it away from her back so he could unhook it, trying not let his hands linger on the soft skin underneath. In front of him, Ginny pulled it off and tossed it in the direction of her other clothing.

"Thanks, Harry," she said. She grinned at him over her shoulder again, and again, Harry caught sight of . . . _Oh Merlin_.

Ginny seemed oblivious to Harry's state. She prattled on casually as she walked to her wardrobe and grabbed an oversized t-shirt, pulling it on before turning back to him. "I'm going to take the bathroom first, okay? I don't think Bill was joking when he said we'd better be done when he and Fleur got up here." She grimaced. "You don't want to be anywhere nearby if they decide they need a shower. His silencing charms are good, but sometimes he gets distracted and forgets to set them."

"Uhh, okay." Bill wasn't the only one suffering from distraction. While she talked, Ginny had reached under her t-shirt and undone her jeans, pushing them down off of her and revealing rather a lot of her legs. The t-shirt covered her arse, but only just, and Harry found himself casting about again for something, anything, to take his mind off the way her muscles bunched when she bent over to pick her errant bra off the floor.

"There's some pajamas for you," she said, casually gesturing at the end of her bed. Harry was certain they hadn't been there a moment before. "I'll be right back." She darted out the door and Harry could breathe for a second. He pulled own sweater off, and the shirt underneath, and then glanced swiftly at the door before taking off his trousers.

The pajamas were not ones he'd seen before. Harry pulled the gold t-shirt over his head and then picked up the dark red bottoms, which were covered with tiny Quaffles that zoomed up one leg and down the other. He even thought he saw a tiny Snitch, weaving in and out.

A sound from the hallway made him jump, and he hastily pulled the rest of the pajamas on just as Ginny reentered the room. Her face had a scrubbed look about it and tendrils of damp hair fell across one cheek. "All yours, Harry," she said cheerfully. She held out a dry towel.

Harry couldn't help but notice the way Ginny's hair dripped onto the front of her t-shirt, which had been thin to begin with. Now wet, it was rather transparent in several strategic spots. He couldn't pull his eyes away, and realized, belatedly, that pajama bottoms were completely ineffective when it came to keeping certain . . . conditions hidden. He grabbed the towel from her.

"Right," he said. "I'll just be, umm. . . . right." He fled without waiting to see what Ginny thought of his crazed babbling or worse, if she'd noticed the reason for it.

Once safely in the loo, Harry leaned against the door and took deep breaths until he was finally in the proper state to actually have a pee. His body was feeling more and more disconnected from his brain, and after he brushed his teeth, he splashed cold water on his face to try to make sense of everything. _Was he really going to spend the night in Ginny's bed? There'd be no way to avoid touching her, small as her bed was._

That thought was all it took, and Harry's erection came roaring back. He looked down at himself, considering. The decent, _proper_ thing to do would be to have a quick wank right here, before going back to Ginny's room. The way he was feeling, there was no question that he would be able to finish well before Bill and Fleur required the loo.

But if he was being honest, Harry didn't want to take care of things himself. He'd be much likelier to just fall asleep if he wanked first, and that was something he didn't want to do. Harry knew nothing was going to happen between him and Ginny, at least, nothing physical. But in the back of his mind was the idea that maybe they'd have a chance to talk, lying together under the covers, alone in the dark.

 _Bloody hell._

Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to think of how many different body parts he'd never be able to use again if Bill suddenly appeared in the loo and discovered Harry with a serious hard-on caused by thoughts of Ginny. It helped only a little bit, so Harry added Charlie, and then for good measure, Mr. Weasley to the mix.

Only when he felt like he could go back to Ginny's room without fear of entering penis-first did Harry dare leave the bathroom. He kept the towel in front of his middle though.

Ginny was sitting up in her bed, scooted close to the wall when Harry got back. The blankets next to her were pushed back, waiting, and for a long moment, he was sure he was going to have to take the towel to bed with him. Ginny patted the mattress. "Come on, Harry, it's freezing out there. Get under the covers." In the next second, she pointed her wand at the door. It closed with an odd squelching sound and Harry started.

 _Had she just set a silencing charm?_

Ginny lowered the lights, and only then did Harry feel it safe enough to drop his towel and climb gingerly into the bed. Ginny sighed in satisfaction and Harry felt her slide down until her head was on the wide pillow that stretched across the bed. Harry had never seen such a big one before, and he said so.

"It's so we can share, silly." Ginny turned on her side, facing him, and poked her toe into Harry's leg. "Now lie down. You're letting in cold air."

Harry lay down flat on his back and looked up at the dark ceiling. Next to him, Ginny laughed softly. Harry felt her breath on his neck and he couldn't hold back a shiver. She scooted closer and he shivered again. "Are you comfortable?" she whispered.

Harry wasn't sure that _comfortable_ was the exact word he'd use, but he was determined not to let Ginny know what he was really thinking. "Ummhmm," he murmured. He wiggled a bit, and stretched, and hoped the movement masked the fact that he was adjusting himself under the blankets. As long as he kept a little distance between him and Ginny, she wouldn't ever need to know that he had a . . .

She scooted closer and hitched her leg across his hip, and Harry squeaked in surprise. The side of Ginny's thigh was nestled up against Harry's erection and he could hold back a small thrust against her. A second later, he tried to scoot away.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Sorry. I didn't mean . . . it just kind of . . . sorry." He tried to sit up.

Ginny just clamped her leg more tightly around him. "Is that . . . I mean, are you . . .hard?" she asked, sounding both curious and shy. She wasn't moving away, and that gave Harry the courage to answer.

"Yeah, I am. I'm sorry. I swear, Ginny, I didn't plan this at all. It's just . . . sometimes my body has a mind of its own." He tried to sit up again. "I'll just go back down to sleep on the sofa, okay?" Or preferably, go find a way to get back to Hogwarts immediately, and then maybe look into transferring to another school. How bad could Durmstrang be, really?

Ginny put her hand on Harry's chest and pushed him back down. "It's okay, Harry," she said softly. There was a movement under the covers and Harry felt her hand splay across his belly, under his t-shirt. "I can't believe that you got one . . . because of me?" Her breath hitched, and in the low light coming through the window, Harry could see that Ginny's eyes were open and searching.

"But . . . Dean," he said weakly.

"Isn't here," said Ginny. "And I'd never be comfortable doing any of this with him anyway." She shrugged. "We're probably going to break up soon."

"Oh," said Harry. His brain felt sluggish. "I'm sorry."

"Are you?" asked Ginny. She sounded amused.

Harry shook his head. "No, not really."

Ginny made a hum of approval. "So, umm, can I . . . touch it?"

 _YES PLEASE_

Harry tried to sound nonchalant, as if having Ginny ask to touch his penis was an everyday occurrence. "Umm, yeah. I'd l-l-like that," he said., unable to completely keep the stutter out of his voice.

A moment later, it didn't matter. Ginny's hand moved down from his belly until she cupped him gently through the fabric of his pajamas. Harry made a sound that would have probably embarrassed him if he'd had even half a mind to think about it, half groan and half sigh. He thrust against Ginny's hands, unable to control the way his hips wanted to move. Ginny gripped a little more firmly and Harry thrust again.

"It's firmer than I though it would be," said Ginny, and Harry detected a little wonder in her voice. "And there's . . . more of it than I expected, you know?"

Vaguely, Harry considered that at some point in the future, he was going to have to spend some time with the fact that Ginny had thought about him enough to have an _expectation._ For now, though, it was difficult for Harry to even remember his own name. For Ginny had moved her hand up to tease back the waistband of his pajamas and slip inside.

"Oh god, Ginny, that's . . ." Harry couldn't speak. Ginny ran a finger along his shaft and then gripped him again, skin against skin.

"Am I doing it right?" she asked shyly.

"Perfect," Harry breathed. He didn't think he'd felt anything better, ever.

"But I should move, up and down, right?" Ginny's voice was a little hesitant, but there was a hint of something else there too. "I mean," she continued. "When my brother make obnoxious hand motions, it's always up and down." Harry could hear the blush in her voice. "So, should I?"

Ginny's shyness suddenly made Harry bold. "I'll show you, yes," he said. He moved his hand down to surround hers. "Firmly, at the bottom," he said. "That's where to start." He thrust against her. "Then slowly up, but still with pressure. And then back down." He demonstrated, moving her hand along with his.

"Okay," said Ginny softly. She moved her hand up and down, and then again, and Harry groaned. She froze. "Is that wrong?"

"No," Harry grunted. He thrust into her hand again. "Keep going."

Instead, Ginny suddenly sat up crossways next to him and pushed back the blankets. "I want to use both hands," she explained. "I think it will be better."

Harry couldn't imagine anything getting better than what he was already feeling, but he wasn't about to protest. And when Ginny added her other hand, gripping him right above the first, he stopped caring about anything at all.

Ginny's hands were perfectly placed and soft and warm, and Harry felt himself start to lose control. He wanted to draw it out longer, wanted to experience as much of Ginny's hands around him as he could, wanted to see if maybe she'd let him do a little exploring of his own, but it was no use. He was on a runaway broom, no way to steer or stop until he reached the peak and fell over the other side. With a strangled cry and one last groan, Harry came, spurting over Ginny's hands and his own, flecks of white landing on his belly and chest.

Still, Ginny didn't take her hands away, and when Harry stopped panting enough to finally look at her face, she looked positively delighted at the outcome.

"That was amazing," she said in a pleased voice. "I can't believe I got you to . . . do that."

"I can't believe you let me," mumbled Harry. As feared, the heaviness of sleep was already overtaking him.

"Don't fall asleep, Harry, you need to clean up first." Ginny's voice was quite determined. "I don't know that spell yet, so you have to do it. Harry? Harry? What's the spell? My bed's all sticky. Harry? It's sticky."

 _Sticky._

Harry jerked awake, breathing hard, and it took him more than a few seconds to figure out where he was. He looked wildly around, half expecting to see Ginny lying next to him, but all he saw were the heavy crimson curtains that surrounded his otherwise solitary bed. It was the first day back after the Christmas holiday, and Harry had apparently "celebrated" all over the place. He ignored the mess and closed his eyes, trying to recapture the feeling of Ginny's leg over his hip and her breath in his ear. It had been so warm and cozy, lying there with her, and _Sweet Merlin_ , had he actually dreamed that she'd given him a hand job?

The warm memories of his dream were fading rapidly, and in their place, Harry just felt rather empty and cold and yes, sticky. With a sigh, he picked up his wand and took care of most of the mess, but he knew from experience that only a proper shower and new pajamas would really make him feel clean.

He flopped back onto his pillow and threw his arm over his eyes. He'd been thinking of Ginny for a while now, but damn, this dream had been something else entirely. Extremely grateful that Ron was not a Legilimens, Harry rolled over and closed his eyes. Maybe if he was lucky, he could dream about Easter break next.


	17. The Fourth Time

So, over in the Discord, we have a book club of sorts, during which we discuss a different fic every month or so. This past time, we talked about Deadwoodpecker's amazing Yellow Submarine, and I promised a one-shot of their choosing to whomever was the first to guess what scene I wrote. Congrats to GinnyWeasley777 – I hope I did your prompt justice! She asked for Harry and Ginny's first time at the Burrow, which was not their first time overall, but soon after they started having sex. Enjoy! (Also, for anyone wondering, I wrote the scene in Hagrid's hut with the ROUS.) Also, I kept Fred alive, which I tend to do in my lighter pieces.

As far as Harry was concerned, Christmas could not come soon enough this year. He'd loved the holiday ever since arriving at Hogwarts and learning that most families did not celebrate like the Dursleys did – dozens of toys and a big fancy meal for Dudley and maybe a pair of used socks and the normal meager rations for Harry. His first Christmas with Ron and the twins had been magical even without leaving the castle, and subsequent years spent at the Burrow still felt like something out of someone else's life. The previous horrible Christmas spent escaping Nagini in Godric's Hollow was excepted, of course.

But Harry had no trouble shoving that memory away as he walked down the corridor of Auror headquarters to deliver what was his (hopefully) final report of the year to Gawain Robards. When Harry walked into the head Auror's office, he found the man busily directing the filing of papers and straightening of his desk, obviously as eager to leave as everyone else was. The man's eyes lit up at the sight of Harry standing in his doorway.

"Is that the report on the Ryder case? I didn't expect you to have it finished so quickly." Robards waved his wand and added Harry's scroll to the pile on his desk. "I'm only waiting on two more and then I can get out of here. Family holiday in the Maldives, you know." He waved his wand again and an image of a tropical beach floated briefly in the air.

"I didn't know, but it looks lovely," said Harry.

"Muggle resort, my wife knows it's the best way to get me to stop thinking about work for a week," laughed Robards. "And what about you? Any big plans?"

"I'll be at the Weasley's. I've spent nearly every holiday there since I started Hogwarts. And, my, umm . . . girlfriend . . ."

"Is Ginny Weasley," finished Robards promptly. At Harry's surprised look, the man grinned. "I make it my business to know these things, Potter." His face grew a little serious. "Our enemies do."

Harry nodded, not really wanting to think right now about who might care that he and Ginny were dating again. Their rekindled relationship was still new enough that Harry wanted to keep as much of it as private as he could. He'd already broken up with her once to keep her safe and now he was working for the Aurors, trying his damnedest to make sure that there would never be a reason to do so again. He said as much to his boss, and Robards nodded.

"Worry about the ones we love is a powerful inducement for many Aurors," he said. "And by the way you've been working, I suspect you love Miss Weasley a lot."

Harry flushed; he hadn't meant to give so much away. "I love all the Weasleys," he said quickly. His voice softened. "But yeah, Ginny is . . . yeah." He looked fixedly at an old Lestrange wanted poster that was hanging crookedly on the wall and hoped Robards wasn't trying to read his thoughts. He and Ginny had made love exactly three times since they'd gotten back together - stolen moments all of them. Harry knew that sex at the Burrow was out of the question, but Harry had every intention of figuring out how to whisk Ginny off to Grimmauld Place during the week they'd be together to try for a private and unrushed number four.

With a final wave and a "happy holidays" to Robards, Harry left the Ministry and Floo'ed to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to collect Ron and the twins. Not surprisingly, he arrived to find Fred and George taking the mickey out of their younger brother.

"I'm not just another employee," Ron was complaining. "We're flesh and blood!"

Both twins shook their heads. "You're still the most junior one here," said Fred implacably. "So that means it's your job to clean the puffs' cage before we leave. And make sure your charm is strong enough to last four days, and that their food and water will be replenished on schedule."

"And keep the lights low and cycle romantic music through the space," added George with a smirk. "We want to have a number of baby puffs sometime in the spring, you know, and they breed best when the mood is quiet and romantic." He caught sight of Harry and his grin widened. "Isn't that right, Harry? Are you going to be looking for something quiet and romantic with Ginny? Cause Fred and I have a number of 'love detectors' we'd appreciate if you could product-test for us. Won't let anything get to far before they sound the alert, of course. Not with our sister, you won't."

Harry groaned. "Don't worry, I'm not so dense as to try anything with Ginny at the Burrow."

"Yeah, that kind of brilliant move is saved for our brother Ron," quipped George.

Harry and the twins laughed while Ron turned almost as red as his hair. It had been during Ginny's birthday celebration at the Burrow. Ron had had too much confidence in both Hermione's skill at setting privacy charms and his own assumption that no one would be paying them much notice, and had snuck his girlfriend up to his room during the lull between dinner and pudding. Just as Molly had set the enormous cake, decorated with dozens of glowing number 17s to celebrate Ginny coming of age, a huge honking noise had burst out of windows at the top of the Burrow. The sound had been almost obscene, and was shortly followed by a rather suggestive poem, blared so loudly over the grounds that Harry wondered if they could hear it at the Lovegood's. The poem hadn't left anything to the imagination as to what Ron and Hermione had been getting up to, and Harry doubted that even Hermione's rather brilliant spell - filling the twins' entire bedrooms with jam (Burrow and at their flat) - had been enough to prevent them from continuing to uncover and publicize their siblings' sexual antics in the future.

The Weasleys had laughed at Ron's expense, teased Hermione gently, and then mostly let the matter drop, except when it would be particularly embarrassing to Ron to bring it up. Harry harbored no illusions that he would get off as lightly if he and Ginny were ever caught in similar circumstances. Brothers were one thing; having sex with the sole Weasley daughter was quite another. Harry had no interest in testing out just what antics Fred and George might develop if they thought they might be able to catch Harry and Ginny in anything more than a chaste hug.

Two days later, Harry was worried that even chaste hugs might be too much, if his body's reaction every time he got close to Ginny was any indication. It wasn't taking much more than a heated look from his girlfriend before Harry found himself getting hard, and the two times Ginny had actually put her arms around him for a proper hug, it had taken every ounce of strength Harry possessed not to grind himself into her right there in the kitchen.

They'd both agreed that trying anything at the Burrow was an exploit left to the more experienced of Ginny's brothers, and it was with no measure of jealously that Harry watched Fleur drape herself across Bill's lap while the family was relaxing in the sitting room or Bill grab his wife around the waist before pulling her outside to "check the wards around the property." When the two of them returned an hour later, looking so relaxed they were nearly asleep, Arthur had mildly mentioned that Bill must have performed a _very thorough_ diagnostic test on the wards, and that was all. No one – not even the twins – would dare interfere with Bill, especially now that he also had Veela magic on his side.

Harry was another matter. No one could take long showers at the Burrow without raising suspicion or enduring the wrath of those waiting, but it didn't matter; Harry's constantly aroused state meant that his wanks brought him to climax quickly, if unsatisfactorily.

It was even worse to know that Ginny was feeling the same way. Passing by Harry on the stairs up to her room, Ginny had muttered _at least girls don't need cleaning spells,_ and Harry had had to abruptly stop his planned trip to the kitchen to duck quickly into the loo, where the image of his girlfriend pleasuring herself on her bed brought him to his fastest orgasm yet.

Still, it wasn't all sexual tension. Christmas eve was warm and cozy with delicious food and firewhiskey and not too much Celestina Warbeck, and the next morning's presents were spectacular. Everyone opened their gifts one at a time so that everyone could ooh and ahh until the end, when Molly levitated identical brightly wrapped parcels to land in front of each person. Despite the fact that this was how they ended gifts every year, Harry suspected that everyone found the ritual of unwrapping their new Weasley sweater as comforting as he did. _All was well_ , it seemed to mean, and he squeezed the warm wool in his hands before pulling it on over his pajamas.

"I hope gold was okay this year, Harry," said Molly as she watched her various children and their guests don their sweaters. "I gave you brown two years ago, didn't I? And I know you've had green and blue. This seemed like a nice change."

"It's great, Mrs. Weasley, thanks," said Harry honestly. The "H" was worked out in Gryffindor red and he grinned to see that Ginny's sweater was the mirror image of his, red with a large golden "G" in the middle." He smiled again. "I love it." Warmth was seeping into his bones and he leaned contentedly against the back of the sofa. Ginny slumped lazily against him and for once, Harry's libido seemed to be willing to keep itself in check. He took Ginny's hand and traced light circles on her palm with his thumb, watching as Arthur commandeered Charlie and the twins to gather up all the paper and ribbons and feed it into the fire.

Suddenly, Hermione jumped up.

"The Portkey's in ten minutes, Ron, do you have everything? Where's your bag?"

Ron looked as if he'd been as half-asleep as Harry. He sputtered a bit as he sat up and looked around. "My . . what? Bag?" He rubbed at his eyes.

"Yes, Ron, your bag with your things," said Hermione patiently. "We're staying there overnight, remember?"

"Ron's sleeping at Hermione's?" Harry whispered low in Ginny's ear. This was news to him. Next to him, Ginny shrugged. "I guess so," she said. "I guess she wanted to be with her family for part of Christmas."

Ron stood up. "I left it in the kitchen," he said. "Aren't we leaving from there?"

Hermione nodded, apparently pleased that Ron had paid attention. "It's the andiron," she said. Quickly, they said their goodbyes. When Ron clapped Harry on the shoulder, he leaned in for a moment.

"Fred and George have my room completely charmed to alert them to any . . . you know," he said in a low voice. He glanced swiftly at Ginny. "So I wouldn't try anything, even with the room to yourself."

Harry nodded. "Thanks for letting me know. Wasn't going to anyway, but thanks."

Ron nodded and grabbed Hermione's outstretched hand before following her into the kitchen.

That seemed to be the signal for the group to break up. Bill and Fleur suddenly remembered that they needed to check the wards at Shell Cottage and left soon after Ron and Hermione, with promises to be back for Christmas dinner. Percy predictably went up to his room to work, and Charlie and the twins went outside for what promised to be an epic snowball fight.

"Coming, Harry?" called Fred over his shoulder. He already had a wicked gleam in his eye as he looked at Charlie. "You too, Ginny."

"Yeah, in a minute," said Harry. "I just want to put my gifts away first."

"I'll help," said Ginny promptly. Behind her, George gave a snort.

"I bet you do," he said. Then he shrugged. "It's not like you can get up to anything. Not unless you want us all to know."

"I know," said Harry heavily. "If Hermione couldn't overcome your charms, there's no way I will." Sincerely glad the twins didn't know Legilimency and couldn't see the image of the wide bed at Grimmauld Place that flashed through his mind, Harry concentrated on looking like the properly cuckolded boyfriend he was supposed to be and turned towards the stairs.

Up in Ron's room, Ginny flopped onto Harry's camp bed with a sigh. "Come here," she said. I bet you can at least kiss me without setting off the alarm. Ron and Hermione were a lot further along before the spell fired over the summer." She held out her arms.

Harry shook his head. "And I'll bet anything the first thing Fred and George did was to improve the sensitivity of their charm; especially if they suspected that you and I were going to try sneaking around. I'll figure out a way to take you to Grimauld Place tomorrow, where we can be really alone."

"And we'll be there for 30, maybe 40 seconds before the rest of the family joins us," said Ginny. "The clock, remember? It added a new spot for your home months ago."

Harry fell back on Ron's pillow with a groan. He'd forgotten about the clock in the excitement of finally getting to be alone with Ginny again. "Well that's it, then, isn't it?" he said with a sigh. "I'm going to have to wait until I'm sent back to Hogwarts for another guest lecture before I get to see you naked."

Ginny nodded. "Looks that way," she said. "Damn Ron, getting to go to Hermione's house. I bet there aren't any wards on a Muggle home."

"Well, I'm not taking you to the Durseley's even for a shag," said Harry with a laugh. He got up. "Hand me my gifts, will you? I want to put them in my trunk." He walked over to it.

"Why'd you bring that big thing anyway? Couldn't you have shrunk all our gifts?" Ginny levitated the pile of presents and came to stand next to Harry.

He shrugged. "Habit, I guess. And it's a lot of work to shrink everything down properly. I always lose things. And anyway, I needed to add last year's sweater to this." He opened the trunk and pulled out a mass of multi-colored wool.

Ginny's eyes opened wide. "What . . . is that a blanket? Made of your old Christmas sweaters?"

Harry nodded and spread it out on the camp bed. "I didn't know what to do with the ones I'd outgrown, so after the third, I figured out a spell to bind them together. Watch." He waved his wand and the brown sweater with a pale blue H in the center rose in the air and knitted itself neatly into an open space. He started pointing. "See, there's my green from first year, the dark blue from second, light blue from third, another green for fourth year- that's more of an olive, I guess." He spread out the rest. "And that's fifth year, I think your mum finished it while she was sitting with your dad at St. Mungo's, it's always smelled a little like the hospital wing. And sixth year, brown. Next year I'll add the yellow. It's so bright, maybe I'll rearrange things and put it in the middle, what do you think? Ginny?" Harry looked at her.

Ginny had an odd expression on her face. She rubbed her hand lightly over the wool and Harry saw her swallow hard. "I . . . I don't know where most of my old sweaters are," she said. "Bunched up in the corner of my room or lost for rags, maybe." She looked up at Harry and he saw her eyes glitter. "I can't believe you saved them."

Harry brushed a piece of hair back from Ginny's cheek and tucked it behind her ear. "It was the first gift I'd ever gotten," he said softly. "This blanket, it's . . . proof, I guess." He didn't think he had to explain more.

Something blazed on Ginny's face then. She grabbed up her wand and pointed it at the bedroom door with an almost violent gesture. Harry recognized the spells she was saying and his breath hitched. "Ginny, are you sure?"

Ginny nodded grimly. "I added hexes to the stairway. Maybe they'll know what we're doing but they won't be able to get in."

"They won't know either, not if I can help it," said Harry. He closed his eyes and thought back to his last mission with the Aurors. "I know a few spells I think Fred and George haven't learned yet," he said. He said the spells and then turned to her with a grin. "At least, I hope they haven't. I supposedly just neutralized their charms."

Ginny grinned back at him and took a step forward. "Well, let's find out," she said.

Immediately, they were both a little shy. Harry dimmed the lamps and closed Ron's shades, but it was the middle of the day and they could definitely still see each other. Despite Harry's earlier lamentation about how long it would be until he would get to see Ginny naked, the truth was, he actually never had. The three times they'd had sex and nearly everything that had come before that had all been in dark rooms and under covers. He'd seen Ginny's bare breasts, but never anything else. And Ginny hadn't seen him at all.

She seemed to guess his thoughts. "I want to see you, before we get under the blanket."

Harry's mouth felt dry. "Okay," he said. "And I want . . . to see you."

Ginny nodded resolutely. "That's only fair," she agreed. She stepped forward so that she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. Harry felt her hands tickle the sides of his waist. "Take off your sweater," she said.

Hastily, Harry complied. Ginny slid her hands up underneath his pajama shirt and ran her fingers lightly across his chest. He shivered. Ginny took another step forward and now he was sure she could feel his erection, pushing freely against the loose fabric of his pajama bottoms. He heard her take a deep breath and then she stepped even closer, winding her hands around his back and then down to cup his bum. She rested them there lightly for a second before pulling him towards her. Harry took an involuntary step forward, and his erection was suddenly against Ginny's belly. Sort of. It was a bit uncomfortable, mashed kind of to the side, and Harry was sure his face was bright red when he took a step back and mumbled 'excuse me, just a minute,' before reaching down to adjust himself. Jeans and trousers kept things much more contained and usually they were lying down by the time his erection really needed attention. He wiggled once more before stepping back against Ginny, this time, wrapping his own arms around her and finding her bum to press.

"I love you," he mumbled into her hair. He'd said it to her for the first time on his birthday, right after they'd finished dinner, while on a walk in the orchard. He'd known it for a lot longer, and told her so. "I know," she'd answered back, and told him she'd loved him for a lot longer too. Now he was more comfortable saying it, but still hadn't gotten over the thrill.

Ginny's hands were under the back of Harry's pajama shirt again. "I love you," she said back. "And I'd love it if you'd take off your shirt." Her voice grew a little shy. "And then maybe you could take off mine?"

Harry didn't need to be asked twice. He nearly ripped his shirt, pulling it off over his head, and his hands were more than halfway towards Ginny's breasts before he pulled back. _He'd been about to take off her top by grabbing them first._

Ginny saw where his hands were, floating in front of her, and giggled. "Not yet, Harry," she said. He grinned sheepishly and lifted the bottom of her pajama shirt up over her head.

"Thanks for not wearing a bra," he said happily. Now that Ginny's breasts were exposed, he felt that he'd been granted permission to look at them, full-on. He didn't immediately touch, although he knew that when he did, his palm was just the right size to cover each one completely. Instead, he stroked his hands down Ginny's sides and watched as her nipples puckered in the chilly air of the attic. "Looks like you don't even need me," he said with a grin.

Ginny chuckled. "Feels much better when you make them like that," she said softly.

Harry took a step forward and wrapped his arms around Ginny so that he could feel her breasts against his own bare chest. They stood together like that, swaying slowly in the silence until their combined breaths had evened out and matched each other. Only then did Harry step back again. Ginny's nipples had gone flat from the heat between them until Harry brushed his thumb across one and then the other, watching in satisfaction as they hardened again. Ginny shivered, but this time Harry knew she wasn't cold.

"Definitely feels better when you do it," she mumbled.

Harry continued to brush lightly across Ginny's chest with one hand. The other cupped her neck and cradled the back of her head while he leaned down to kiss her. He teased around her lips for a moment and she opened the obligingly. When her own hands found Harry's waist and he felt cool fingers dip into his pajama bottoms, he made a low sound in his throat and Ginny responded by deepening the kiss and pushing herself against him. One hand was still at her chest, and Harry had a fleeting thought about whether it would be selfish to move it so that he could press himself more fully against her. That thought was enough to make him force himself to step back again. _Ginny's breasts,_ he reminded himself.

Although, they were easier to reach when they were both lying down, so Harry shuffled them both carefully over to stand next to the camp bed and then looked at it critically. "It's kind of small," he said. "But I am not using Ron's bed."

"Definitely not." Ginny wrinkled her nose. "How's your transfiguration?"

Harry picked up his wand. "Hopefully better than when I took my OWLs," he said.

His transfiguration job worked; when Harry was done the bed was wider and sat on a sturdy wooden frame instead of its normal creaky metal. "Remind me to set it back before Ron gets home," he said. He went to pull Ginny to sit down and she stopped him. He looked at her quizzically.

"Bottoms off first, I think," she said.

Harry swallowed. "Bottoms, right," he said. They both stood together silently, and Harry had the feeling Ginny was waiting for something. "Umm, should I go first?" he put his hands at his waistband.

Ginny flushed. "I'll do it," she said quickly. She moved swiftly, replacing his hands with hers and tugging down his pajama bottoms. Harry couldn't hold back a tiny yelp as the fabric slid over his erection and it sprung free. Ginny froze. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you? I didn't mean to be so fast."

Harry shook his head and stepped out of the bottoms. "Just surprised me," he promised. "It's a . . . little sensitive down there, you know?"

"Okay," said Ginny. She sounded distracted. Harry had been about to ask her if he could take off her pajamas now, but he took a look at her face and his question died in his throat. Ginny was looking down at the space between Harry's legs, and her expression was a mixture of curiosity and something that Harry sincerely hoped was excitement. She was biting her lower lip, and twice, Harry saw her hands move to him, and then pull back. He touched her chin and lifted her eyes to his.

"You've touched it before," he said, amused.

Ginny nodded and let out a breath. "I know," she said. "But not when I could see it. Not when we were standing up. It's . . . different this way. It's pointing out, instead of lying flat on your belly. I was wondering if it . . . felt different, this way."

"Why don't you find out?" said Harry.

Ginny nodded again. This time, she stroked him lightly down his length once, and then again, sucking in her breath when Harry shuddered. "Is that good?"

Harry couldn't move his own eyes away from Ginny's hand. "You can hold it more firmly," he said in a choked voice.

"Okay," she said. "I just didn't want to hurt you."

"You wont," he assured her. "Actually," he said with a chuckle. "If you don't grab it soon I may have to do it myself."

Ginny looked up at him with a smirk. "So this is torture?" she asked. She tickled her fingers across his shaft so lightly Harry could barely feel it. He let out a groan.

"Yes," he said thickly. "I mean, do whatever you want. But yeah, it's driving me crazy." He clenched his hands at his sides, determined to let Ginny continue her exploration on her own.

She took pity on him and reached out both hands, wrapping them around his penis, one in front of another. "It's like holding a broom handle," she said with a laugh. Harry leaned into her and she gripped him more tightly.

"Just be careful you don't pull to hard to the side when you steer," he joked. He leaned back again and felt Ginny instinctively loosen her grip before tightening it again when he thrust back against her. "Uhhhh," he said. "This feels really good." It did, too. The position was similar to how Harry stood when he wanked in the shower, but having Ginny be the one touching him pushed his pleasure in an entirely different direction.

"It's hot," Ginny said, "and I can feel it sort of, pulsing?"

Harry nodded, unable to speak for a second. "It . . . it does that," he finally managed.

Suddenly, Ginny's hands were gone. "You're getting carried away, aren't you?" she asked. "Already."

Harry nodded. "Uh huh. It's been a long time."

Ginny's hands moved back, but didn't hold as firmly. "For me too," she said.

Harry felt a bit like an arse. "I haven't . . . you still have . . . I should take off your pajama bottoms too, shouldn't I?"

"It would help with the 'having sex bit,' yes," said Ginny. Harry could hear the laugh in her voice.

"You're making fun of me, aren't you?" he asked, feigning petulance. He put his hands on Ginny's waist and then slipped them inside the back of her pajamas. She was wearing knickers, he noted, and after a second's hesitation, pushed them aside too so he could rest his hands on her bare bum.

"Yesssss," she started to answer, but it ended in a hiss as Harry's hands still on her skin.

"Hmmm, we need to do something about that, then. I can't have you laughing at my technique, can I?" He kneaded her bum gently.

"I won't laugh," she promised. "Just please, take my pajamas off."

The plea in her voice was obvious and Harry felt an answering thump from his erection. With one move, he pushed both pajamas and knickers over Ginny's hips and to the floor. She kicked them aside, her hands never leaving him.

For a moment, Harry didn't look down. Despite the fact that Ginny had already examined him quite thoroughly – and still was, actually; her eyes had drifted back to his erection – Harry wondered if it was proper to just . . . stare the way he wanted to. He fixed his gaze firmly on Ginny's hip, forcing himself to count the freckles sprinkled across her skin. When they began to travel to the right, he let his eyes wander that way too, until finally, he was looking at everything. As if feeling his gaze on her, Ginny dropped her hands and stood still while Harry watched her, from the soft rise and fall of her chest, the quivering of her stomach muscles, and then lower to the dark red curls he'd touched and tasted but never really seen. He brushed a hand over them, leaning down to reach, and the movement caused his penis to skim Ginny's thigh. He started to adjust himself but found her hand already there. Without a word, Ginny gently moved him across the soft fuzz and then lower, closer to her opening. Harry's breath hitched.

"Ginny I . . . I'm not sure I'm ready to . . . I mean, I've heard it can be tricky, standing up." Despite his words, Harry was already straining towards her opening.

Ginny responded by rubbing the tip of Harry's penis more insistently against her and Harry was once again reminded of wanking. _Do girls . . . does Ginny?_ The thought was incredibly arousing, and he watched her a bit more closely. He could feel that Ginny was wet, and when she pulled back for a second, he could see her, glistening on himself. He bit back a moan.

"D'you need me to . . . you know. Before we have sex?" Harry gestured vaguely between them, not sure if he was offering to use his hands or his mouth or what. But Ginny shook her head.

"I'm ready," she said breathlessly. "But I want to do it on the bed. Under the blanket." She pointed to pile of sweaters."

"That's . . . okay. Yeah," said Harry. "I'll probably never be able to sleep under it again without getting hard from the memory though."

"Good," said Ginny. She pushed him gently onto the bed.

Harry scooted over to make room, and as soon as Ginny was lying next to him, he pulled the blanket up to cover them both. Despite the weak light still streaming in around the edges of the window and the faint sounds of a snowball fight breaking up the silence, the room felt cozy and private. Harry performed a quick contraception spell and pulled Ginny against him until they were snuggled together. He kissed her nose.

"I liked being able to see you," he said honestly. "Especially that last bit, when you were . . . you know. With me."

Ginny nodded against his chest. "Felt better than using my own hand," she mumbled.

 _Oh. So that answers that._

"For me too," he said. "Than using my hand, I mean." He felt suddenly bold. "You'll have to tell me what you think about," he said quickly. "When you're alone, I mean. When you . . . you know."

"Only if you tell me what you think too," said Ginny. They both lying in their sides, slowly rubbing against each other, hands touching softly wherever they fell. Harry moved his hand between them and felt the juncture of Ginny's thighs.

"Just wanted to makes sure you were really ready," he said.

"I am," she said solemnly. "More than ready. Do you want to be on top? Or can I this time?"

Ginny had never been on top before and it took Harry less than a second to answer. "You, please," he said thickly.

Ginny grinned and scooted closer to him before pushing Harry onto his back and hitching her leg over his hip. A second later, she wiggled into position on top of him and put her hands flat on his chest before looking down. "Oh, I like this already," she said in a pleased voice. She wiggled again and spread open her legs, nestling herself at the base of Harry's penis. "Ahhh, feels really good," she mumbled. She dropped her head to Harry's chest and began kissing him there, rocking back and forth at the same time and making satisfied humming noises.

Harry thrust his hips involuntarily. "Uhh, Ginny?"

Ginny rocked some more. "Yeah?"

"You know I'm not, um, _inside_ yet, right?"

Ginny pushed up on Harry's chest again. "I know," she said. I'm just enjoying the view for a minute." She scooted up a bit and raised her hips, and Harry felt her position herself at his tip. He closed his eyes in anticipation of the feeling of Ginny pushing down onto him, but instead, the sensation was light and fleeting. Harry opened his eyes.

Ginny's head was bent to look down Harry's body to where they almost connected. Harry craned his neck and could just see under the blanket that she was balanced on her knees so that she could carefully control the way she let her opening get close to him for a touch before she pulled back. Everyone once in a while, she let him get a little more of the way in before pulling out again and then going back only to his tip. It was torture. It was wonderful.

"Having fun?" he asked.

Ginny stopped with Harry halfway inside her and looked up. "Yeah, I am," she admitted. "It feels really good to be able to control everything." She bit her lip. "Is it okay for you?"

"More than okay," promised Harry. "And also going a little crazy. In a good way," he added hastily. He put his hands on Ginny's hips. "But if you wanted to push all the way down, I wouldn't stop you." He reached up and pushed her hair behind her shoulders.

Ginny grinned and reached down to kiss him, all the while keeping herself positioned high on Harry's penis. He focused on kissing her, on the feel of her hips in his hands and her thighs clamped on either side of his waist and tried with all his might not to thrust.

A second later, he was rewarded. Ginny pushed down onto with a groan of satisfaction.

Harry groaned back. "Thank Merlin," he mumbled.

Ginny moved up and down a couple of times, and when Harry rocked her hips against him she let him set the pace for a minute. Then she pushed harder and grabbed his hands, nearly sitting up on his lap. The blanket fell off her shoulders as she moved but she ignored it in favor of continuing to move, up and down.

At the end of one particularly hard thrust, she stopped with Harry fully inside her, and her movements around him became small and intense. "Hold on, Harry," she gasped. "I'm really close." She pushed into him and Harry lifted his hips, trying to find even more depth. He wanted to thrust, hard, but he also didn't want to stop the feeling of being completely enclosed by Ginny while she found the private rhythm that pushed her over the edge. When she cried out, Harry could feel her pulsing around him and he bit the inside of his lip, trying to let her have as much pleasure as she wanted before he gave into the urge to move.

Only when Ginny collapsed back onto his chest did Harry take her hips again and move her up and down. She caught on quickly, looking at him full in the face.

"You didn't yet?"

Harry shook his head. "Too busy . . . watching you," he managed. He pushed her up again and groaned when she dropped back down on her own accord. "But now . . ." he couldn't speak anymore. With another hard thrust, Harry came, pulling Ginny's hips against his while he spilled into her until she fell back onto his chest again, both of them sweaty and panting.

Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny and softly kissed her hair. "I think it gets better every time we do it," he said. "I definitely liked you on top."

"Me too," said Ginny. "And when we're a little more experienced, we'll definitely have to try it standing up."

"Sounds good," Harry mumbled. He was extremely sleepy and Ginny's weight was like a blanket itself. He felt himself start to drift . . .

"HARRY."

He jerked awake. "Whahuh?"

"It's gotten really quiet outside. Listen." Ginny was already off the bed, and Harry was disappointed to see that her breasts were already covered by her pajama top. She bent over to pick up her knickers and Harry felt a faint stirring. But a second later she turned around.

"Harry, Charlie and the twins could be on their way up here right now! For all we know, Bill's come back too; we're all to have Christmas dinner together, remember?"

That got Harry going. He grabbed his wand and simultaneously shrunk the bed, made it neatly, opened the shades, took down the wards, and lit the lamps so brightly that he had to squint to see Ginny.

"Sorry about that," he said, hastily lowering the lights to their regular level. He looked around. "They won't be able to tell we just had sex, will they?" We can tell everyone we were . . . umm . . . looking at my blanket. They'll buy that, won't they? What?"

Ginny was shaking her head. "They're going to know for sure what we were doing," she said solemnly. Her lips twitched. "Unless you put your pajamas back on."

"Oh." Harry looked down. He was still completely naked, his penis now flopping rather weakly between his legs. "You remember what it looked like, before, don't you? " he asked, grabbing for his bottoms. "It doesn't really mean anything, what it looks like when it's this way."

"Yes Harry, I remember. You used it quite impressively," said Ginny with a smirk. "And if you want to have it intact to use again, I suggest you get yourself dressed and start talking about something boring like what you're planning for your next lecture at Hogwarts before my family troops in here." Ginny flicked her wand at the door and it swung silently open. Harry half expected to see a bunch of Weasleys standing there, but it was quiet. Ginny let out a sigh.

"I think we're safe," she said. Let's go see if we can help mum with dinner before anyone tries to come up here." She picked up the blanket. "Can we take this down to show her? If I can find my old sweaters, I think I'd like one too."

Harry grinned and gave Ginny a kiss. "Only if you promise we'll have sex under yours too," he said.

Ginny kissed him back. "I get to be on top."


	18. Ginny's Pregnant! Part II

A/N: Just a fun frolic while I get ready for the next chapter of Reversing Course. There will be a third part to this.

"So, I assume we're going to tell your family at dinner tomorrow night?" Harry stopped tracing lazy circles with his mouth along Ginny's naked form just long enough to ask the question. The sun was already low on the horizon and the two of them had yet to get out of bed on the Saturday other than for necessary trips to the loo. They'd summoned food to their bedroom as needed and in between reacquainting themselves with each other bodies, Ginny had read bits of What To Expect When You're Expecting a Wizard or Witch out loud to Harry.

He'd been particularly interested to hear about the changes that were happening to certain parts of Ginny's body.

" _So, there's increased sensation here, and . . . here?" he'd asked from his place between her legs, kissing carefully on the outside before delving deeper with his tongue._

" _Oh Merlin, yes," breathed Ginny. She bucked against his mouth. "Ooh, sorry," she said in response to his small sound of pain. "It's just . . . so much more."_

Harry chuckled and sat up, rubbing his nose before scooting up to sit closer to Ginny's waist. "I'm going to enjoy getting use to this, I think," he said. "Do you need the blanket?" They'd pulled off their pajamas at some point that morning and not put anything else on, preferring instead to keep warm against the December chill with heating charms and plenty of physical activity. Now Ginny shuffled into Harry's lap and leaned against his chest while he wrapped his arms protectively around her belly.

"Do that once in front of my mum and we won't have to tell them," laughed Ginny. "Remember how she figured out Fluer was pregnant just from the size of the helping of potatoes she took?"

Harry began kissing Ginny's neck. "Maybe we should send a Patronus ahead of time. Get the surprise out of the way and let your mum just start fussing immediately." He moved one hand lower.

Ginny wiggled her bum against Harry's erection. "And deprive me the chance of seeing their faces when we tell them?" She put her hand on top of his and moved it to right above her clit, to a spot that had become particularly sensitive lately. Harry made an amused sound and began to push his fingers in the pattern they'd already figured out felt the best. Ginny groaned.

"I still can't believe how quickly that arouses you," said Harry. "You kind of remind me of me, when I was sixteen. All I had to do was see you walk by and smell your shampoo, and I got hard."

"And couldn't do anything nearly this nice about it," said Ginny. She laughed. "How often did you shower that year?"

"A lot," muttered Harry. He'd slid back down to his space between her legs. "And a lot of silencing charms. He pushed gently at Ginny's thighs until they fell open a little wider and began nuzzling, right below the spot where his fingers were still at work.

"I . . . I thought we were going to . . . right there . . . talk about telling my parents," panted Ginny. Her head fell back on the pillows. "Fuck, that feels good."

"You want me to stop?" Harry mumbled. He'd maneuvered himself so that he could press his erection against the side of Ginny's thigh while he worked on her. His plan, as it were, was to get her to climax with his mouth and hand and then immediately slide himself inside; they'd already discovered that Ginny's orgasms were more intense and lasted longer now. So far, he'd not been able to make her come a second time _immediately_ , but given the enthusiasm she'd shown for their lovemaking in the past day, Harry was confident it wouldn't be long. The baby book hadn't come right out and used the words _multiple orgasms_ , but its technical language about "enhanced blood flow to the sexual organs" and "heightened sensitivity in the clitoral region" left little doubt. He moved his mouth again, flattening his tongue against Ginny's flesh, and she screamed, squeezing her legs around Harry's head as she came.

Harry moved himself up Ginny's body and entered her, pushing through the tense pulsing of her climax and groaning himself at the feeling of her contracting around his penis. He was already so aroused from going down on her that he didn't think he'd last long. Ginny grabbed his bum and helped him thrust, holding him in place while she came back to herself before letting him start to move again.

"I love it when you're inside me immediately after," she panted, stretching up to capture Harry's mouth in a kiss. He stopped thrusting long enough to kiss her deeply, a little thrilled, as always, that she didn't mind it even though he'd just used his mouth on her.

"I love it too," he said. "You're really tight then." He propped himself up on his elbows so he could watch Ginny's face while he moved.

"It's because my orgasms last longer now," she said. She reached up to trail a hand down Harry's face, a tender gesture that contrasted with the fact that she was also lifting her hips to match each of Harry's thrusts. "I can feel the difference when you enter; it's like you have to work harder."

"It's harder for sure," grunted Harry. He thrust again. Despite the intensity of his own arousal, this _was_ their third time making love that day and getting himself over the brink and hopefully bringing Ginny along with him was going to take some effort. He stopped moving for a moment to focus on the feeling of her enclosing him.

"I should have given you a blow job," said Ginny suddenly. "You've only been taking care of me today." She sat up a little and reached down between them to cup his sac. It was something Ginny knew to do only if they'd already had sex at least once that day; otherwise it was almost too intense. But now, on their third go-around, Harry wasn't as sensitive, and feeling Ginny's hand on that part of him made him groan with pleasure.

"Blow job . . . later," he panted. "Today's about you."

"Well, I won't complain," she said. She let Harry nudge her chest until she was lying back down again. "I'm feeling rather insatiable right now." She sighed. "Now I get what Fleur meant about looking forward to the second trimester when she told us she was pregnant with Dominique."

"Was that the dinner when they disappeared into Bill's old bedroom before pudding and forgot to set the silencing charms?" The rest of the family had retreated to the garden for pie, moving more quickly than Harry had ever seen. It had been nearly two hours before one of the twins' sex detectors had deemed it safe for them to return.

"They weren't even embarrassed, were they?" Harry assumed it was only because this was their third time today that Ginny was able to both carry on a conversation and lift her hips in time to match his thrusts with her own. "I heard mum tell dad that 'now Bill probably understood why they'd had seven children.'" She moved her hands to Harry's bum. "Right there, don't move," she said.

Harry froze. "I'll have seven with you if want," he said heavily. "Or a dozen." He swallowed hard. "How . . . much longer?"

Ginny wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him in place. "I'm close," she panted. "I don't think I even came down completely from last time."

Harry's arms were shaking from the effort of holding himself in place. "I'd hoped not," he managed. "I got inside as quickly as I could."

"MOVE," Ginny grunted suddenly. She loosened her legs and Harry swore with relief. All thoughts of waiting for her to get there too flew out of his mind as he plunged erratically in and out. Dimly, he heard Ginny saying something beneath him, but it wasn't until after he climaxed, collapsed on top of her, and finally regained some breath that he realized he hadn't even looked at her for the last few minutes. She was tickling her hands up and down his back the way she often did after he finished hard and he felt an answering contraction around his penis that told him Ginny had finished too. Groaning a bit with the effort, he propped himself up on his elbows again to find his wife grinning at him.

"What?" he asked. "Did you . . .? I mean, I think I could feel it, but I . . . umm . . ."

"Of course I did," said Ginny. There was an air of satisfaction in her voice. "And you completely lost yourself at the end, didn't you?"

"Umm, yeah," admitted Harry. "It got really intense. I'm sorry. I didn't wait to see if. . ."

"Don't apologize, it was brilliant," said Ginny. "I'd hoped it would be more for you too, while I'm pregnant. I read that can happen for the husband sometimes."

Harry nuzzled Ginny's neck. "It definitely was," he mumbled. "And now I don't want to move." He lay back down flush on top of her. "I hope I'm not too heavy."

"Never," said Ginny. "But enjoy it while you can because pretty soon there won't be any room there. We'll have to figure out some new positions."

"I'm looking forward to that," said Harry sleepily. He snuggled against Ginny. "What time do we need to be at the Burrow?"

"Half six," said Ginny. She sounded as tired as Harry. "Time for a kip. The baby needs it too."

"Napping as a family," said Harry. "I like that." He rolled gently off Ginny and she curled up against him. "I love you," he said, kissing her on the forehead. He dipped his head. "And I love you too," he said to Ginny's stomach.

"We love you too," mumbled Ginny. "And we'll want sex again, later. So now we need to sleep."

Harry chuckled. "I could get used to this."


	19. Awakening

Reversing Course is coming along, but more slowly right now, as I try to work out some of the more detailed plot points. In the meantime, Deadwoodpecker asked if I'd ever write a companion piece to What Comes Up/Pump Up the Volume, but from Ginny's point of view. It was a good distraction, so here's part I of my purely fluffy frolic and detour. Special thanks to the Ginny Lovers discord for indulging my discussion of Ginny liking Harry headcanons, and an extra special thank you to LegendDairy for gifting me with the changing room scene.

Growing up as she had with six boisterous, uninhibited, and often _oversharing_ older brothers, by the time she started at Hogwarts, Ginny Weasley was no stranger to what most girls her age considered the mystery of the opposite sex. While the distractions of her first year at school prevented her from sharing her knowledge, before her second year was a month old, Ginny had become the unofficial expert when it came to educating her age-mates about what made 12 year old wizards tick. And if some of her details might not have been completely accurate – she taught her friends that "blue balls" were what boys got from sitting too long on a broom during Quidditch – it was certainly more information than any of them were getting elsewhere at the time. And when Ginny returned after the Christmas holidays having overheard a rather explicit conversation between Bill and Charlie about a witch at the bank Bill was shagging, well, it was a wonder that any of them got any real homework finished at all.

"I swear, he told Charlie he put his mouth _down there_ ," she confided one night in her dormitory, to the combined fascination and horror of the other second years. Ginny's information had been deemed important enough that the Gryffindors had been joined by all of the Ravenclaws and a couple of Hufflepuffs. No one had thought it necessary to ask any of the Slytherin though.

"Like any of them will have any luck catching a bloke anyway," laughed Demelza. She leaned in towards Ginny. "What exactly did he do with his mouth? Kiss it?" she asked skeptically.

"I'm not sure," Ginny admitted. "I think he said something about . . . licking?" She made a face. "Why would he want to do that?"

"It's an effective arousal ritual," said Luna Lovegood in a dreamy voice. She was twirling a corner of Ginny's quilt and until that moment hadn't given any indication she was listening. "And prevents nargles from invading the cavity."

Most of the girls exploded in laughter but Luna seemed unpeturbed. "You'll understand someday," she said serenely. "We just need to reach our sexual awakening first."

HPHPHPHP

Ginny was pretty sure that Michael Corner wasn't going to sexually awaken her. He was her first kiss, a fact she rather regretted as soon as she realized that he used his tongue as if going into battle with the giant squid. Still, she'd briefly harbored the notion that she could help him improve, and spent some amount of time instructing him "to close his mouth a bit more" until she finally gave it up as a bad job. After Michael got angry over the fact that Gryffindor had beaten Ravenclaw in Quidditch, Ginny had no trouble at all walking away.

Dean Thomas was rather nicer. He was calm and artistic, and it showed in the carefully deliberate way he used his mouth and eventually, his hands. Ginny sometimes felt little flutters in her belly when she kissed Dean and sometimes didn't mind when he brushed his hands down the front of her robes, and even when they ventured inside her shirt. She occasionally wondered what it might be like if Dean's hands roamed further, but every time they approached that boundary, Ginny held back, and Dean didn't push her. For a little while, Ginny wondered if there was something wrong with her, if she should be feeling _more_. Dean was her boyfriend, after all, and he was cute and kind and liked Quidditch. But no matter what she thought she should be feeling, Ginny couldn't work up any more excitement for him than those occasional flutters in her belly. By the time she began thinking that it was time to break up with Dean, Ginny had stopped pretending she didn't know the reason why.

HPHPHPHP

Ginny hadn't lied to Hermione. She really had moved on past her crush on Harry, sometime around the start of her fourth year. That summer at Grimmauld Place had gone far towards making Ginny realize that Harry was nothing like the silly fantasies she'd been concocting in her head for years, and that understanding gave Ginny the clarity to talk to Harry as a real person and then as a friend. What she'd been less honest about was exactly what her feelings were for Harry now. When Harry kissed Cho in the Room of Requirement and Ginny felt an unreasonable and surprising stab of jealousy she convinced herself that it was just a remnant of her earlier crush, that little bit of her childhood that had wondered what it would be like to kiss Harry Potter and have him kiss her back. Instead, she kissed Michael and then Dean, taking Hermione's advice to go out with other people so that she could relax around Harry. It worked, and then it worked too well.

The more Ginny got to be Harry's friend, the more she understood how both his determination and frustration urged him on. And the more she watched him trying to always do the right thing and keep so much closed off and to himself, the more she knew that he'd never give up believing that the entirety of their futures rested almost solely on his shoulders. Somewhere in the midst of this growing awareness, Ginny's feeling of friendship began to blur into something else.

She suppressed it, of course. She could do that, as long as her latent feelings for Harry Potter were mostly emotional and nothing more. And for a while, all was fine. Ginny was sure she imagined that Harry seemed to be looking at her more often, and if she was becoming less and less enamored of Dean, well, that had nothing to do with anything other than the fact that he'd just gotten a little . . . boring. Right?

And then Harry called Quidditch practice.

He worked them hard, first running up and down the stadium's steps and then in the air, but Ginny didn't mind. Harry worked right along with the rest of the team, jogging past them on the steps and then flying circles around their formations, trying to distract them as they took turns with Quaffle and Bludger. Everyone should be familiar with every position, he said, so at the end of practice Ginny found herself racing Harry after the Snitch, leaning forward until she was nearly flat on her broom before she snatched the fluttering ball right out from Harry's grasp at the last minute. They rolled together onto the ground in a mass of limbs and brooms, laughing good-naturedly at each other as the rest of the team descended. Harry reached out a hand to help Ginny to her feet but she grinned cheekily at him and handed him the Snitch instead.

Everyone was ribbing Harry, Ron asking pointedly if Harry was sure Ginny wouldn't make the better Seeker, when they got to the changing room. Before she followed Demelza to the girls' side, Ginny reminded her brother that she'd beaten him as Keeper too. Ron made an obnoxious hand gesture before disappearing behind the curtain that separated the entryway from the two sides of the changing area. Ginny turned to go shower.

"You beat everyone, you know."

She turned back. "What?"

Harry gave her a grin. "Beating, Seeking, Keeping, you won every time. And Chasing, of course." He grabbed a towel from the shelf and rubbed it across his face.

Ginny's throat was suddenly dry. "I didn't hit the Bludgers very hard," she said, swallowing. "I just got a couple of lucky shots in." She was very aware of the way Harry 's practice uniform hugged the lines of his body.

Harry shrugged, then pulled his jersey over his head. "It was enough to nearly knock Peakes off his broom," he said. He tossed the jersey into a nearby hamper. "Don't sell yourself short."

Ginny didn't think Harry was showing off, half stripping in front of her so that she couldn't help but see the way his abdominal muscles marched up his torso. More likely he was thinking of the Burrow, where everyone except Ginny ran around in various states of undress half the time. She was just another Weasley; Harry'd probably forgotten she was a girl. She resisted the urge to bite her lip.

"I'll . . . I'll stick to Chasing, I think," she said thickly. There was a swoop in her belly that was more than anything she'd ever felt with Dean. She took a deep breath and then matched Harry's grin. "Wouldn't want Ron to get a complex or anything. Another complex, I mean."

Harry snorted. "Good thing Lavender didn't come to practice today, huh?"

"Or Hermione," agreed Ginny.

Harry grinned again. "I wondered about that," he said. He fiddled with the button on his uniform bottoms and for a wild second Ginny wondered if he was about to take them off. The swoop in her belly moved closer to the space between her legs. She forced a small shrug.

"I'm staying out of it," she said. "They have to figure things out on their own."

Harry nodded. "Ron's so thick though; probably take a Bludger to the head before he realizes he fancies her."

"I'll try harder next practice then," said Ginny with a smirk. It was getting easier to talk; after all, it wasn't like this was the first time she'd seen Harry without a shirt. Sweaty, and without a shirt, that was, and with his hair tousled even more than usual. She swallowed again and gestured weakly behind her. "I guess I better . . ." she said.

Harry nodded quickly, his hand flying away from his button. "Right, me too," he said. "I uhh, I wouldn't want you to miss dinner." He picked up another towel, suddenly sounding awkward. "I'll uhh, maybe I'll see you there?" He wasn't looking at her anymore and Ginny wondered if he'd realized he'd started undressing in front of her.

"Sure," she said. She forced a casual tone. "Sounds good." Blushing but not sure why, Ginny grabbed a towel of her own before pushing aside the curtain that led to the girls' showers.

"Bye Ginny."

Ginny didn't know if she imagined Harry's final comment; she was too busy setting shower to be colder than normal, relieved that Demelza had already finished and left. Her body tingled, and definitely not from exercise; she hoped Dean wasn't waiting for her to have dinner with him. She really didn't want to think about her boyfriend right now.

Ginny didn't think about her boyfriend that night in bed either.


	20. Cubicles and Corridors

A/N: I wrote this in 2009 as an entry in a Smutty Claus fic exchange. As you will see, it did not have to be holiday themed. My recipient wanted "anything Harry/Ginny almost getting caught and sex with water". So here you go. I have not edited this at all, hence the use of words for Harry's private parts that I no longer use in my writing.

The noise of Auror Headquarters rose and fell around Harry's cubicle like it did every day – people talked to each other in the corridors or yelled across open spaces and everyone learned to ignore the sound when there was work to do. Harry was usually able to tune out the background chatter with little effort, but not today. Today, every sound was magnified and every voice bore down on him while he sat at his desk, making him fear that any number of colleagues was about to appear in his workspace. Most days he did not mind visitors, glad of a reason to look up from a boring report or get another opinion about a particularly tough case. Today, he just hoped everyone would stay away.

He bent over his task, determined to finish without being interrupted. Snatches of a conversation floated over the wall of his cube and he froze as the voices grew closer. Only when they continued on without stopping did he start to move again. He cursed to himself; it was bloody difficult to focus.

"Relax, love. You're too tense." Ginny's voice was soft in his ear and her warm breath on his neck made him shiver and pump harder.

"Can you blame me?" he muttered. Ginny's only response was to chuckle and wrap her hand just a little more firmly around his.  
br  
"I did put an _Impeterbable_ charm on the entrance to your cubicle you know," she said, working her other arm slowly around Harry's waist and drawing him back in his chair. His head brushed against her breasts.

"These . . . are . . . _Aurors !_ " he panted. "That won't stop them." He couldn't say any more - Ginny's fingers had worked themselves underneath his and now she was circling the tip of his penis as it strained up towards his belly. _What the hell was he doing – letting Ginny help him wank in his open cubicle?_ "They'll see it as a challenge," he managed, and then groaned as Ginny moved her second hand down to help the first.

Harry couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to. Not only were his jeans halfway down to his ankles but Ginny was standing behind his chair and her arms were like steel bands around him, both of her hands entwined with his beneath the waistband of his boxers. If someone walked into his cubicle there would be absolutely no way to hide what they were doing.

"Then you'd better come soon," said Ginny, and Harry could hear the smirk in her voice. "Cause I think I heard Kingsley mention that he needed to talk to you when I walked by."

"Fuck," said Harry. He leaned forward in his seat to increase the angle of pressure. It was probably his imagination, but he could almost hear the footsteps in the corridor. Every inch of his body tingled. Ginny began to kiss his neck.

"Oh God, don't stop," he muttered. Their hands were still moving in tandem up and down on him; Ginny seemed to know instinctively when to stop near the base to squeeze, and when one of her hands cupped his balls Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from crying out.

"We have one minute until Anthony and Demelza stick their heads in here," said Ginny, naming two of Harry's fellow Aurors. "And then they'll be able to see me touching you." Her words sent an unexpected jolt of pleasure through Harry. Behind him, he felt Ginny pushing herself against the back of his chair.

"They'll see you first," he managed and was rewarded when Ginny groaned against his neck. One of her hands had disappeared from his cock and Harry knew exactly where she had put it.

"45 seconds," gasped Ginny. "Don't come until I say."

Harry felt a tightening in his lower back. He was lifting his hips off the chair as he thrust against his hand. Inexplicably, his eye caught the report lying on top of his desk and he read it with detachment even as he felt his orgasm building. _Student Death Eater group at Hogwarts_ was the title. The words had no meaning as they floated in front of his eyes.

Harry didn't have time to read more. Ginny cried out suddenly and dropped her head onto his neck. "Now," she said, breathing heavily.

Harry pumped twice more and then grunted before he came hard, watching as spurts of white shot into the air in front of him and covered the parchment he'd been staring at.

His hand fell off his penis and lay limply in his lap. Prickles of sweat dripped down his chest under his robes, which he'd bunched awkwardly under him when Ginny had surprised him at work earlier.

"I can't believe you walked right in here and stuck your hand down my pants," he said. His limbs felt heavy, like they were full of sand, and his brain was fuzzy. In some corner of his mind he knew he should be pulling himself back together but he just couldn't force himself to move yet.

Behind him, he felt Ginny shrug. "I was bored," she said.

Harry snorted. "Bored?" he asked. "Gwenog gives you one day off a month and you spend it getting your boyfriend off while he's at work? I'll have to suggest she let you go free more often." Harry leaned forward and grabbed his wand to begin siphoning the mess he'd made off the parchment. His cum left dark stains scattered over the words. Harry frowned at them. Maybe he could tell Kingsley he'd spilled his tea.

"Fiancee," said Ginny lightly, kissing him on the side of his neck. "Or did you forget already?" She reached around him with her own wand and muttered a few words. Immediately the stains on the parchment disappeared.

"Not likely," said Harry, "And thanks." He pushed back his chair and pulled her down so he could kiss her back. "There is something rather unforgettable about mutual masturbation in a cubicle in the middle of a busy office." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "I take it you enjoyed yourself too?"

"Quite," smiled Ginny with satisfaction. She turned to look behind them. "But you'd better get yourself cleaned up. I was making it up before, but now I think someone is trying to get through the wards."

Harry stood up to pull up his boxers and jeans and adjust his robe. "You were making it up?" He shivered, remembering how his body had tingled when he had thought they were about to be discovered.

Ginny smiled and shrugged. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Minx." Harry pushed lightly against her chest until she took a step backwards and her arse hit the edge of his desk. Moving forward, he leaned in to give her a kiss, pressing his body against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

The broke apart when someone chuckled behind them.

"So this is why Harry's cube was warded as though it was Gringotts." Anthony Goldstein was standing in the doorway, a smirk on his face. "I thought maybe you were just having yourself a wank, Potter."

Harry flushed and felt Ginny's body shake as she silently giggled against his back. He smoothed down the front of his robes and wished he hadn't when Anthony's grin got even bigger. "I was just trying to concentrate on the report about . . . er . . ." he looked down at the parchment on his desk. "that Death Eater group at Hogwarts. Ginny surprised me." Behind him, Ginny's shaking got stronger.

"I'll bet she did." Demelza Robbins walked in behind Anthony and raised her eyebrows at Harry. Anthony and Demelza made up the rest of Harry's Auror investigation team and the three of them worked extremely well together. Working so closely, often in very dangerous situations, meant that there were few secrets between them. Harry shrugged.

"Have you chosen between Jimmy and Richie yet, Demelza? Or are you just going to keep shagging them both for as long as possible?" Harry asked.

Anthony snorted. "Preferably on the same day, yes?"

To her credit, Demelza didn't even blush. "At least _I'm_ getting some," she said looking at Anthony. "Instead of spending my days pining over a bloke I don't even have the courage to say hello to."

Now it was Anthony's turn to blush. Harry turned his head to Ginny. "Anthony has a huge crush on Katie Bell's little brother – he's one of our new trainees," he said under his breath.

"Hmmm," said Ginny. "I remember him from Hogwarts – he's adorable."

"I know," muttered Anthony. "Unfortunately I'm not the only bloke who thinks so." He looked at Harry. "Who'd you see him with last week again? Creevy?"

Harry was about to answer in the affirmative when Kingsley Shacklebolt strode into the cubicle. He raised his eyebrows at Harry, who suddenly realized that he was still wrapped around Ginny in a way that was rather inappropriate for the workplace. He straightened up quickly and looked down at the report on his desk. To his relief, Ginny's charm had really worked and the parchment was pristine.

"Yes, sir?" he asked.

"I'm glad all three of you are here. Harry, did you finish that report on the Death Eater student group?"

"Er, just about finished." He scrambled to remember something that he'd read. "The consensus up at the school seemed to be that it was more of a disciplinary problem than cause for real concern."

Kingsley nodded. "I think that's right," he said. "But better safe than sorry when it comes to Dark Wizard groupies at Hogwarts. We don't need another Tom Riddle to slip through the cracks – not that I think any of the students concerned have even one-tenth of his talent. Fortunately I think it will be fairly easy to bring the group under control without arousing too much attention to them."

"What do you want us to do?" asked Anthony.

"You and Demelza will be here for the most part, investigating the backgrounds of each of the students' families. I want full reports on what their relatives did in the years leading up to the War, any Dark leanings, etc. Keep it as subtle as possible – I don't want the press to get wind of what you're doing."

"And me, sir?" Harry asked, even though he already suspected what Kingsley's answer would be. He turned his head to look at Ginny. She had a three-week road trip coming up and Harry was pretty sure that one of her games was against Inverness. Until just now they had been trying to resign themselves to the separation. He struggled to keep the grin off his face when Kingsley confirmed his guess.

"I need you to be at Hogwarts," he said to Harry. "Just your presence there should go a long way towards quashing the group." His return smile held a hint of a smirk in it, as if he knew exactly what Harry was thinking. "You'll officially be there as a guest lecturer. Get involved with the students, teach them to duel, talk to them about their future plans, that sort of thing."

Harry nodded. "I can do that, sir."

Kingsley nodded. "Good. You leave tomorrow. I suggest you get a good night's sleep." He glanced at Harry and Ginny and smiled. "However you wish to define that."

Turning on his heel, the man left Harry's cube and Anthony and Demelza soon followed.  
"Come on, Harry." Ginny tugged on his arm. "If I'm not going to see you much in the next three weeks I want to at least enjoy the goodbye."

Grinning, Harry waved his wand at his cubicle to pack up his things and followed Ginny out the door.

Nine days later, Harry was tired. Being at Hogwarts was interesting and enjoyable, but busy. When he'd first arrived he'd had the disconcerting sensation of being stared at again as he walked the halls. The students may have been younger, and their looks more awe-filled than derisive, but Harry felt much the same as he had many times when he had been a student. He kept expecting to turn a corner and see Ron and Hermione bickering or Luna walking dreamily down the corridor, her radish earrings swinging wildly.

Missing Ginny was the worst. Twice he found himself slipping through a tapestry to the hidden corridor where they used to snog – and more. He found the broom closet where Ginny had first let him touch her bare breast and the suit of armor he'd almost knocked over when Ginny had whispered to him that her knickers had been wet all through Transfiguration because she'd been thinking of him.

And then one night when he couldn't sleep, Harry had wandered around until he came to _the portrait ._ Fortunately, all the occupants (a group of maidens herding sheep) were asleep; Harry didn't think he could face their twitters and jokes right now. Just seeing it, and the bare patch of wall directly across made his crotch tighten with remembrance. Before he knew what he was doing, Harry leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. By the time his hand found his half-hard penis, he was already remembering the last time he'd been here – with Ginny.

 _It was late, and Harry and Ginny were making good use of the Invisibility Cloak. As Head Girl, Ginny had certain privileges regarding being out of the dorm after curfew, but neither of them believed those privileges extended to snogging in remote corridors at all hours of the night._

 _Ginny had just sent her Patronus to Professor McGonagall announcing that she'd concluded rounds and now she and Harry were deciding exactly how long they could stay out before someone discovered they were not in their dorm._

 _"Long enough for a snog, at least," Harry said. They could have snogged in the common room, of course, but he had never gotten over the thrill of wandering the castle after dark. Doing it with Ginny made things that much more exciting._

 _"I can think of something else we have time for," said Ginny. There was a funny catch in her voice and when Harry looked at her, he saw an odd sort of smirk on her face. She looked a little nervous about something._

 _"Is something wrong? Do you want to go back?" he asked._

 _Ginny shook her head. "Definitely not."_

 _"Then what is it?"_

 _Ginny shrugged. "I just think there's something else we have time to do before we have to get back, that's all." Harry could tell she was trying to sound nonchalant._

 _More debate about it would just waste time. "Okay," said Harry agreeably. "What?"_

 _In response, Ginny pushed on his chest until he had to take an involuntary step back. Ginny moved with him until his bum touched the wall. She leaned forward as if to kiss him and Harry closed his eyes in anticipation. When her hand gently brushed between his legs instead he yelped and opened them.  
Ginny was biting her bottom lip as she looked at him. "Is that okay?" she asked hesitantly.  
Harry had to lick his lips before he answered. "Yeah," he finally said thickly. "More than okay." As if to show her, his hips thrust forward, pushing against her hand. Harry buried his face in her neck. "More'n okay," he said again._

 _Ginny was just starting to cup Harry more firmly through the fabric of his trousers (and he was mentally wishing he'd worn his thinner pajama bottoms to sneak out instead), when they heard the first giggles._

 _They flew apart as if they had been burned, pulling out their wands and peering both ways down the corridor. It was dark and empty. The giggles got louder and seemed to come out of nowhere, sort of above them. Ginny raised her wand higher._

 _Across the hallway, halfway up the wall, what looked like an entire meadow-full of teen-aged girls in long dresses and silly ruffled hats were looking at them and laughing. A couple of sheep were walking around in the background of the picture and Harry could swear that even they were smirking at them._

 _"Aww, hell," he said irritably. His erection, which had been on the verge of getting really good, deflated a bit._

 _"Just ignore them," said Ginny breathlessly. She pushed her hand against him and for a second, Harry forgot they had an audience. He leaned into her and wiggled his hips a bit until her hand was nestled between his legs. "Right there," he murmured._

 _"Move out of the way, Charlotte, I can't see!" An aggravated voice from the portrait broke the spell._

 _Harry looked up again. "Do you mind?" he asked in the direction of the painting._

 _A figure whose name was apparently Charlotte tittered. "No, we don't mind at all, please keep going," she said._

 _Harry seriously considered suggesting to Ginny that they find another place to continue. He didn't want to; the corridor was conveniently devoid of any human interruptions and taking time to find somewhere else would only lesson the time he and Ginny could spend on more important activities. Deciding to try to ignore their painted audience, Harry reached forward and grabbed Ginny's hips to pull her toward him again. He began kissing her neck, pausing only to shiver when she moved her hands back between his legs._

 _"Those outfits students wear are a lot easier than these stupid dresses, aren't they, Charlotte? Much better access."_

 _Harry didn't even bother looking up to see which of the sheepherding maidens was talking this time, he was too focused on the fact that Ginny's hand had moved up to the button on his trousers and now was slowly prizing it open._

 _He was forgetting to breath. Ginny had opened his fly and was now pushing his trousers down past his hips. It suddenly didn't matter that the maidens had called a number of pirates from the next painting over to their meadow and were now engaging in activities that Harry didn't think would have been possible for two-dimensional painted figures. He was vaguely aware of someone yelling "Ahoy Matey" behind him, but then Ginny had her hands at the waistband of his boxers and he stopped paying attention to anything else at all._

 _Harry was glad for the wall – it was pretty much holding him upright as Ginny pushed his boxers down past his knees. His erection sprang free from the fabric and pointed straight out at Ginny. She regarded it curiously for a moment and Harry realized that_

 _ **Sweet Merlin**_ _he was pretty much naked in front of his girlfriend. For the first time._

 _"Can I touch it?" Ginny's voice was shy._

 _Harry had to swallow twice before he could get the "yes, please" out of his throat, which was more than enough time for several of the watching crowd to call out their own responses first. He blushed when one of the sheepherders – now wearing only a corset – yelled at Ginny to "just grab him like you're milking a cow, lass", but a second later, when Ginny ran a single finger from the bottom of his shaft to the tip, his embarrassment was forgotten._

 _"Ohhhh," he groaned softly as he felt her fingers wrap around him. This was so much better than wanking. What Ginny lacked in technique she more than made up for by the fact that she was, well, a girl. A girl who was holding his penis in her hand. And running her palm up and down its shaft. And . . ._

 _ **holy shit now she was using both hands!**_

 _Almost immediately it was too much. Before Harry knew what he was doing, he'd pushed himself hard into Ginny's hands. She tightened her grip and the tingling feeling in Harry's back grew stronger and traveled down between his legs. He pushed again , grunting._

 _Ginny looked up at him then. "Harry, are you going to . . .?" she began._

 _Harry was beyond answering. One more thrust, and sticky white spurted out between Ginny's fingers, covering the front of her robe._

 _"Oh!" she said with surprise. Harry raised his head to look at her. His legs were trembling and he couldn't stop a last pulsing roll of his hips against her hand before he straightened up._

 _"Sorry. Sorry about that," he said, crimson. "I, uhh . . . you caught me by surprise. In a_

 _ **good**_ _way, I mean," he said hurriedly._

 _Ginny smiled shyly at him. "Good," she said. "I'm glad it was good."_

 _"More than good," said Harry. "Great, even." He rocked back on his heels, not sure what else to say. He was still trying to process the fact that Ginny had just given him the best hand job of his life. Granted, it was the only hand job he'd ever had, but still . . ._

 _Ginny was wiping her hand on the front of her robes, a slight look of distaste on her face. Harry looked around for his wand; he'd learned the spell for cleaning_

 _ **that**_ _particular stain in his third year like nearly all the boys. Before he could find wherever he'd apparently thrown his wand, he realized it had gotten awfully quiet in the corridor._

 _The pirates and maidens had stopped their revelry and were watching intently. The pirate captain's breeches were down around his ankles and Harry could see the man's cock pointing toward Charlotte, who was on her knees in front of him. Harry briefly considered the fact that the pirate had a sexual organ at all – had the artist actually painted him a penis before covering it with painted clothing? – before he realized that he was still just as naked as the figure on the wall. His own cock was quite deflated now, and several of the sheepherders were pointing at it and giggling. He hastily reached down to pull up his boxers and trousers."_

 _"It was just fine before and you know it," he said testily to the wall. Spying his wand behind Ginny, he grabbed it and quickly performed the spell to clean her and her clothing._

 _"Thanks," she said, looking down at herself. "I should learn that one."_

 _"Clothing and skin is pretty easy," said Harry. "But getting . . . it . . . off other things can be hard._

 _ **Like the magazine of naked witches he'd borrowed from Seamus and practically ruined. It had cost six Sickles – and a lot of embarrassment – to replace.**_

Ginny had obviously learned the spell quite well in the intervening years – look how well she'd cleaned up his parchment report last month. Harry shook himself out of his reverie and realized that his hand had traveled down into his pants while he'd been remembering. He looked around the corridor and was disconcerted to realized that a few of the sheepherders had awoken and were now looking at him with leering grins.

"Anyone coming to join you?" asked Charlotte saucily.

"No," said Harry shortly. "And you can leave your pirate friends out of it too. At least until I'm gone." His cock was aching from the slow build up he'd given it and if he hadn't been assured of an audience he probably would have taken care of himself right there.

"Too bad," said another maiden, coming to stand next to Charlotte. "You look like you could use some help."

"Yeah, well, I'll see her next week when the Harpies play Inverness," said Harry. He straightened his shirt with as much dignity as he could muster, considering the erection that was still visible through the front of his trousers. "I have tickets to see the game and then she has two days off."  
He started to walk down the hallway, thinking about how to best get back to his suite of rooms without running into any students.

"Bring her by, then!" a voice shouted at him as he turned the corner. Harry ignored it.

Harry avoided all portrait-filled corridors during the following week. Kingsley's assumption that Harry's mere presence at Hogwarts would be almost enough on its own to quash the fledgling Death Eater group proved correct – by the start of his third week the group of Slytherins that had been meeting in the Astronomy Tower for "stargazing" had dissolved and Demelza and Anthony had been able to confirm the general non-involvement of the majority of their parents.

"Of course, I suspect that a number of the people we interviewed were not particularly upset to hear what their children were getting up to at the school," said Anthony during a Floo call with Harry one night. "But they weren't going to admit it to us. I'd keep a particular eye on Caulkins and Van Doren – the families seemed more militant than most – but on the whole, we found nothing remarkable."

Harry nodded. "I'd pegged them as the ringleaders," he said. "Maybe a couple rounds against the "Savior of the Wizarding World" will bring them in line."

Anthony chuckled. "I hope I get to see that," he said. "Say, Demelza wanted me to ask you if you and Ginny want to go out for dinner after her match tomorrow. She finally decided – she thinks – on Jimmy Peakes. I personally think she wants the two of you around on her date to help her solidify her choice."

Harry grimaced. "Uhhh . . . I'm not sure . . . about that," he stuttered. Anthony let out a bark of laughter.

"I'm just yanking your chain, mate. We know you and Ginny haven't seen each other in three weeks. We don't want to be anywhere near the two of you, to tell the truth."

Harry relaxed and grinned back. "Well good. Because going on a double date with anyone right now is about as appealing as a good case of Spattergroit."

"I guess Demelza will have to enjoy Jimmy's company on her own, then," said Anthony. Through the flames, Harry could see him rolling up the piece of parchment regarding the case.

"Unless you grow some balls and ask out Ronnie Bell," said Harry cheekily.

Anthony grimaced. "He's still dating Creevy," he said. "Besides, a new class of recruits starts next month. I'm sure there will be someone much more my type in the group."

"What else do you look for in a guy besides a heartbeat?" asked Harry. "And if that's too specific, I hear the Ministry ghost that haunts the lift might be available – what's his name - Walter?"

"Wallace," said Anthony. "And no, I'm not interested," he added hurriedly. "I prefer my blokes to have a little more . . . substance."

"I'll see who I can find," said Harry. "I'm supposed to be finished up here on Tuesday; we'll meet then to debrief Kingsley."

"Sounds good," said Anthony. He disappeared from the fireplace and Harry stood up, groaning a bit as his knees creaked. He looked at his watch. Only eighteen more hours until he saw Ginny. He sincerely hoped the game was a short one. He wouldn't go so far as to root for Inverness if it looked like they could end things quickly, but still. It had been three long weeks since he'd seen his girlfriend . . . fiancée. That was really too long. His hand and a lot of showers were just no comparison.

The game lasted two hours – each team trading goals back and forth as if they had planned it ahead of time. Harry yelled himself hoarse every time Ginny got the Quaffle and forced himself not to pull out his wand to protect her when a Bludger flew dangerously close to her head.

The score was 220 to 240 in favor of Inverness when the Harpies Chaser suddenly grabbed the Snitch out of nowhere to win the game. The disgruntled home crowd cleared out quickly so by the time Harry made his way out of his box down to the visitor's changing rooms, the stadium was nearly empty. He liked it that way; he didn't even have to use his Invisibility cloak to navigate through the remaining spectators.

"They're just finishing up their post game interviews – should be here soon." Roderick Hades, the Harpies' head bodyguard was standing duty outside the locker room. He and Harry understood each other well; Harry knew that with Rod on security detail, he didn't ever have to worry about Ginny's safety.

"Thanks," said Harry. "So they haven't showered yet?"

The big man shook his head. "The press was anxious to get to them today." He pointed behind Harry. "Here they are. I won't say anything if Ginny is missing when it's time to escort them to the post-game celebration, right?"

"Right," said Harry distractedly. He'd caught sight of Ginny. Her face was glowing – a combination of exertion and excitement, Harry knew – and she'd already pulled her hair out of its pony tail and taken off her wrist guards. Her face lit up even more when she caught sight of him. "Harry!" she cried happily.

Two quick strides and he was at her side. Harry ignored her outstretched arms and upturned lips, instead moving so close to her he could only see the top of her head when he looked down. Without a word, he swung Ginny up into his arms. He heard her tiny gasp of surprise before he clasped her tightly to his chest and spun on the spot.

"What . . . Harry . . . how did you . . . is this the Prefects' Bathroom?" Ginny was still in his arms, looking confusedly around at the room as Harry traced his lips hungrily against her neck.

"Ummhmmm," he mumbled, focusing on the patch of skin below her jaw line. He shifted Ginny in his arms to get better access."  
Ginny moaned a bit when Harry's tongue flicked out and tickled her neck, but she wasn't to be deterred yet.

"But Harry, this is Hogwarts. How in Merlin's name did you Apparate here? Not that I'm complaining, mind you. The bath here is much nicer than in the visitors' changing room back at the stadium. But still. Don't tell me Hermione's been wrong all those years."

"Course not," said Harry. He pushed back Ginny's hair and blew across the back of her neck. "She's the cleverest witch our age, remember? Not to mention the only one who's read the entirety of Hogwarts, A History." He put Ginny down, reluctantly, and moved over to examine the huge bath tub. "What do you think – tub, or shower?"

"Both," said Ginny. "But first you have to tell me how we got here."

Harry shrugged. "I'm Harry Potter," he said simply. "It occasionally has its advantages."

"I can think of a few more," said Ginny. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest. Harry could smell a mixture of sweat and grass and flowers on her skin. He gently rubbed her wrists where the red marks from her guards were still visible, then put one hand to his lips and kissed each finger. From behind him, he could feel Ginny shiver; her fingers were very sensitive.

"I guess I should take off my clothes then," said Ginny.

"No," said Harry. He turned around to face her. "I want to do everything tonight."

Ginny smiled. "Okay," she said. She looked pleased and Harry felt a surge of anticipation. It wasn't often that he took total control.

Harry looked around the room, thinking. "Shower first, I think," he said. He took Ginny's hand and led her over to the bank of showers against the wall. Like everything else in the bathroom, these were luxurious; each shower had four jets of water and a deep wooden bench at the opposite end. Bottles of liquid soap shared a shelf with scented candles. Harry waved his wand to light them and the soft smell of cinnamon and vanilla filled the air.

"I'm going to get hungry," Ginny joked. She was bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet and Harry could tell she was excited.

"That's later," he said. "Right now I want you to close your eyes.

Ginny smiled and obliged. Harry reached for the hem of her Quidditch jumper and pulled it over her head; her t-shirt followed. She was wearing a plain white sports bra that covered everything quite completely. It made Ginny seem younger, more like the schoolgirl she had been when she and Harry had first started dating. Being at Hogwarts probably had something to do with it too, Harry supposed. He smiled at the white cotton and forced himself to remove it slowly.

Harry stopped for a moment to stare at Ginny's breasts. They were the first – and only – ones he'd ever seen and as far as he were concerned, they were nearly perfect. He stepped closer and, without touching, blew across the mounds, watching with satisfaction as Ginny shivered and her nipples hardened.

She opened her eyes. "That feels good," she said. "I was so hot."

Harry smirked. "Why yes, you are." Ginny rolled her eyes at him but before she could come back with a retort, Harry scooped her up again and walked purposefully over to the showers.

Harry turned on all four jets of water in one of the showers and adjusted the temperature. Soon, billows of steam began to fill the space. He pulled his shirt off and shrugged out of his shoes and jeans. His erection poked through the opening in his boxers and strained towards Ginny.

"Down, boy," she said playfully, reaching for it. Just as playfully, Harry slapped her hand away.

"This is about you, not me, remember?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, I'm sorry, sir," said Ginny in a chastised voice. Then her eyes twinkled. "But do you intend to wash my uniform pants along with the rest of me?"

"Nope," said Harry. "I was just getting to that." He took a deep breath. He really wanted to make this evening last as long as possible, but he wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to control himself. He and Ginny hadn't seen each other in nearly three weeks – and worse, he'd been walking the halls of Hogwarts by himself during that time, remembering everything that he and Ginny had gotten up to when they were younger. And now, here they were again, at Hogwarts. And Ginny was in her Quidditch clothes and looking up at him with trusting eyes. This time there was none of the hesitation or embarrassment or awkwardness to get in the way. He swallowed hard.

"Sit down," he said thickly. Ginny sat on the wooden bench at the end of the shower. Harry knelt in front of her and put his hands on her hips. Her breasts were directly in front of him, now glimmering with the moisture in the air. He leaned forward and gently licked one with his tongue, tasting both the water in the air and the saltiness of Ginny's skin. He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her close, sucking harder. Then he pushed himself back.

 _Got to slow down,"_ he told himself firmly. Harry slipped his fingers inside the waistband of Ginny's uniform bottoms and began tugging them down. They quickly got stuck.

"Am I allowed to lift my bum enough so you can get my pants off?" she asked in an amused voice.

"Yeah," said Harry. Without a word, Ginny pushed herself up on the bench enough for Harry to pull her pants all the way down. For good measure, he grabbed her knickers at the same time and removed them too. He threw them artlessly behind him onto the floor outside the shower, never taking his eyes off Ginny. His penis was straining upward and he quickly pulled off his boxers and tossed them on top of Ginny's clothing. His glasses followed – they were useless in the steam anyway. Then he stood up.

"Come on," he said, holding his hand out to Ginny. She followed him under the warm spray of water.

"Did you ever imagine, when you were in school, that you would someday be using this bathroom for sex?" Ginny asked him, the last word coming out in a low moan when Harry moved his hands to rub across her nipples.

"Nope," he replied. "If I had, I don't think I would have ever gotten a second of homework done. I'd have been too busy taking cold showers." He squeezed some of the soap onto his hands and rubbed them together. "But enough talking, Miss Weasley. You are far too dirty right now. Put your bum against the wall and close your eyes, please."

With a grin, Ginny did as she was told. Harry grinned himself. This was going to be fun.

Harry couldn't remember the last time he and Ginny had fooled around in the shower – they just didn't have that many opportunities. The Burrow's bathroom was out of the question. Completely. The one time Ginny had walked in while Harry was getting undressed and wrapped her arms around his back and whispered "want company?" he'd yelled so loud in surprise that the entire rest of the house had heard his "FUCK". And not let him forget it. So no sex in the Burrow's loo.

It had taken Harry months before he was comfortable even kissing Ginny in places where her teammates, or the press, or fans could see them, and after one heated encounter in the Harpies' locker room that had been interrupted by one of the trainers they'd both agreed not to mix Quidditch and pleasure.

Which left Harry and Ron's flat. Problem was, Ron seemed to have a sixth sense about showing up just when things with Harry and Ginny were getting heated. It was annoying; Harry didn't have nearly as much luck interrupting Ron and Hermione.

But now they were all alone, and in the nicest shower Harry had ever seen.

"Do you think we can put a shower like this in our house?" sighed Ginny, her eyes still closed.

"Whatever you want," said Harry. He moved forward and rubbed his soapy hands across her front and down her sides. "As long as we get to use it together." He pushed his erection into Ginny's belly and sighed happily to himself as Ginny groaned into his neck. Wrapping his arms around her, Harry walked them both sideways until they were fully under the water. He pressed one finger against her clitoris, swirling lightly until she was wriggling against his hand.

"Fuck, Harry, harder," she said breathlessly.

Harry swallowed. For a long second, he considered just pounding into her with everything he had, right there against the wall. But no. He _was_ going to control himself, dammit. He took a deep breath, then another.

"Not yet," he said thickly. "I've got to finish washing you first."

Somehow he managed to keep one hand between Ginny's legs and massaging her clit while maneuvering her back under the spray of water. He ran his other hand through her hair until it was soaked and then realized that without his wand, he'd need to use both hands to get the shampoo.

"Fuck the shampoo," he said more to himself than to Ginny. His cock was throbbing and Ginny had her head thrown back against the wall of the shower; water was coursing down her face as she breathed in quick pants.

Harry moved his second hand down between Ginny's legs and slipped a finger inside. She jumped a little and Harry jumped too, covering her with his body.

"You aren't allowed to come until I say so," he said, smirking a bit as he used one of her favorite ways to torture him. Without waiting for an answer he began pumping his finger in and out; slowly at first, and then, as Ginny began to moan and move against him, faster and with more pressure.

"Oh god," she said. "Harry, I'm . . . Oh God . . ."

Harry slowed down. "Not until I say," he reminded her.

In response, Ginny grabbed Harry's cock and slid her hands down its wet length. "I need to help hurry things along then," she said. There was a devilish air to her voice but her eyes were still closed and as Harry watched, she bit her lower lip and pushed herself down on his hand.

It was all Harry could do not to let her finish him right there. With almost superhuman effort, he moved Ginny's hands away and then quickly – before he could change his mind – dropped to his knees in front of her.

The warm water was pounding on Harry's back and shoulders as he leaned forward and put his hand on Ginny's wet curls. Using both hands, he parted her folds and then ran his tongue from top to bottom.

Ginny moaned and tightened her thighs around Harry's head. The sudden movement surprised him and he almost slipped. At the last second he grabbed the back of Ginny's legs to steady himself, almost pulling her down onto the shower floor as well.

"Whoops," he said, grinning up at her. "Maybe we'd better make use of that bench."

With shaky legs, he stood up again and took Ginny's hand, quickly leading her to the wooden bench at one end of the shower. It was cooler here and as Harry ran his hands down Ginny's side and over the curve of her hip she shivered and Harry felt goose bumps rise on her skin. He looked back at the shower jets and before he could even try to think of a spell, they had twisted and moved until the warm water covered the two of them again.

"Nice touch," he remarked. Ginny was sitting in front of him on the bench and Harry quickly kneeled in front of her again and gently pushed on her chest until she was lying back on a pile of towels he hadn't noticed before.

"Maybe this place is kind of like a bathroom-themed Room of Requirement," he said, parting Ginny's folds once again and dipping down for another taste. "Those towels weren't here when we walked in."

"Yes they were." Ginny's voice was breathless and faint against the noise of the shower spray. "You are just . . . extremely . . . distracted . . . right NOW!" She yelled the last word as Harry's tongue found her center and pressed. She wiggled against him and cried out, pushing into Harry's face with rhythmic spasms. "Harry, please . . . I have to . . . please," she begged. Harry couldn't see her face from his position but he could imagine Ginny's expression – head thrown back, biting her lower lip as she breathed heavily in and out. He slipped two fingers inside her and applied pressure from the inside, then took a deep breath himself, fighting for control.

Harry wanted to tell Ginny to hold on for another second – he loved the torture of making her wait to climax as much as she did – but he couldn't talk and continue his ministrations at the same time. "Now," he finally muttered, more or less to himself. He swirled his tongue around Ginny's clit and pushed again, moving his fingers in and out.

Harry's instructions didn't matter. A second later Ginny cried out as she came, tightening her legs around Harry's head as she pushed against him.

Harry wasn't sure if Ginny said anything in the moments after her climax. His throbbing cock was suddenly impossible to ignore and in an instant he'd moved above her to straddle her waist on the bench.

"I love you," he managed, kneeling on the bench in front of Ginny's parted legs. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him, a lazy, languid smile that Harry recognized as her own personal post-coital expression.

"I love you too," she said. "And now I want you inside of me." She bent her knees and let them fall open around him.

Harry couldn't answer. He moved forward, his straining penis pulling him toward her until the tip brushed her curls. Normally he would tease her a bit first, swirling around her entrance, pushing in just a little bit and then pulling out. Not now, though.

With a grunt, Harry buried himself in Ginny's depths. Almost immediately, he felt an uncontrollable urge to move. Balancing himself above Ginny, Harry pumped in and out, slowly at first, and then faster. The relief at being able to move was overwhelming and quickly, he felt himself losing control. Biting his lip, he forced himself to go more slowly.

"You can't come until I say," Ginny said in an amused voice. She arched her back and pushed herself more firmly around him as she spoke.

"That's not helping," mumbled Harry. His hips jerked against hers and he felt a tingling building in his lower back.

"Even so," said Ginny. She thrust up into him again and moved her hand down to circle her clit, just above Harry's cock. "Move faster," she commanded.

The sight of Ginny touching herself was more than Harry could bear. With a groan he gave up all attempts to hold back and began pumping furiously. "I'm not going to last much longer," he panted.

"Not yet," said Ginny, writhing against him. "Not . . . yet . . . not . . . NOW!" she said suddenly. She wrapped her legs around Harry's waist and squeezed.

Harry pumped one more time and then let himself go, crying out as he climaxed. He collapsed on top of her, his hips still moving rhythmically against hers in slower and slower pulses.

For a moment the only sound was water hitting the tiles around them. The candlelight flickered crazily around them and for Harry, the world shrunk until it was only him and Ginny, hidden away from everything except each other.

After a minute, Harry began to trail soft kisses along Ginny's wet neck. He felt as languid as she did now, and the drumming of water on his back was pleasantly relaxing. "Are you comfortable?" he asked. "I could move."

"Don't you dare," said Ginny. She turned her head to plant kisses of her own on the side of Harry's cheek.

"Good," he said happily. "This is the only way I can see you clearly without my glasses."

Ginny sighed contentedly beneath him. "I can't remember the last time we had this much time alone together," she said. "And your cubicle doesn't count."

Harry chuckled. "I know. Usually at Hogwarts we ended up with an audience of some kind. Charlotte says hello, by the way."

"Who's Charlotte . . . oh," said Ginny. She moved a bit and Harry looked down at her raised eyebrow. "Do I want to know why you saw her?"

"Probably not," Harry sighed. "I was rather lonely that night."

"Oi," said Ginny. "Were the pirates there too?"

"Not this time," laughed Harry. "I like it much better here. No one can interrupt us – painted or real."

"Or ghostly," said Ginny. "I haven't even seen Myrtle around here."

"Good," said Harry. "There's something about making love to you while she's sitting there staring at us and picking her chin that's a real turn-off."

"I don't think anything could have turned you off earlier," said Ginny with a smile. "You were quite wonderfully focused. I usually can't climax twice so close together."

She was running her hands up and down Harry's sides as she spoke, and when she put her hands on his bum and squeezed, Harry felt a tingle of arousal. He pushed lightly against her and then grinned. "Wanna go for three? We still have the entire bathtub, you know."

Ginny grinned back. "I've always wondered if I could modify the Bubble-Head charm so I can give you a blow-job under the water. I can't think of a better place to try."

Harry's cock gave a jerk in agreement as he rolled off Ginny and stood up. He held out his hand to her. "I think that's a brilliant idea."


	21. After Three Weeks

A/N: This is in response to a prompt by a rather demanding reviewer, who wanted "lazy, early morning sex when Harry and Ginny's kids were old enough to be at Hogwarts". While my kids are not entirely gone from the nest, I know how weird it feels when even one of them leaves, and I can see Harry having a rather difficult time with all three of them gone. Deadwoodpecker, this is for you. :)

September 22, 2019

Three weeks. That was how long it took for Harry to start to get used to the quiet at home. All the jokes they'd made that summer - about turning bedrooms into home gyms and long vacations with no forwarding information - didn't seem quite as funny when he walked by those bedrooms, now unnaturally neat and quiet. Even the whispered plans he and Ginny had made to spend entire days naked or to finally master the positions at the very back of the magical kama sutra they'd never gotten to try didn't feel quite as pressing when they didn't need to sneak those moments alone or set copious silencing charms. Just the week before, Harry had jumped up from the sofa - inadvertently knocking away the hand Ginny had been moving on him - because he'd thought he'd heard one of the school owls tapping at the window.

Ginny had given him a fondly annoyed look when Harry came back fro the kitchen to report that it had been a branch, and then warned him that her "libido was only going to be patient for so long." Two days later Harry had caught her standing in front of the dinner table which she'd set for five, wiping tears as she levitated the extra plates back to the cabinet. So maybe they both needed some time.

That's not to say they'd been celibate; they were empty nesters, not dead. But Harry had been busy at work and then Ginny had been busy at work, neither of them having to rush home at any particular time to manage dinner or play referee for anyone, and getting used to the newness of it all took more effort than Harry had expected. The sex they'd had had been good - sometimes very good - but it hadn't been . . . quite them. Not yet, anyway.

But now it was three weeks since they'd put Lily and her brothers on the train to Hogwarts with promises from the boys that "yes, they'd watch out for their little sister." Harry and Ginny had privately agreed that Lily probably did not need much watching, but they didn't want to let James and Albus off that easily. The letters they'd received were all positive - James had reported that the History of Magic curriculum had finally been updated to include modern history, and Harry was going to figure prominently for the Fourth Years starting around November. Harry had swiftly written back that no, that didn't mean James was excused from completing his homework on the subject, and he'd immediately owled Professor Praeteria and offered himself up as a guest lecturer. That he'd neglected to tell his oldest son the plan was not out of any sort of fear, he'd assured Ginny, but merely the desire to surprise his children with a visit from their father. Ginny had wisely nodded and said nothing else.

It was September 22nd, a Sunday. For the first time in three weeks, the quiet of the morning didn't remind Harry of who wasn't at home right now. For the first time, he watched Ginny, hair tousled across her pillow while she slept, and realized their home wasn't empty but merely filled in a different way. Their children were still present; just not, Harry grinned to himself, _in your face present._ And as he slithered out of his t-shirt, he thought that was a very good thing.

It was grey outside; Harry heard thunder rolling in the distance. He and Ginny had nowhere to be and the bed was warm and comfortable. Ginny sighed in her sleep and rolled away from him, the sheet falling down to reveal the creamy smoothness of her back. She'd removed her t-shirt at some point in the night, a habit she'd stopped when the boys had grown old enough care but not old enough to knock. And now there was no one but Harry to see.

Harry shuffled closer so he could spoon Ginny from behind and discovered that she'd removed her knickers as well. Normally, this would be a signal for him to press his erection into her bum until she rolled over to face him. Normally they'd fumble for a wand to set privacy wards before one of the kids came in and interrupted them.

But now, the only wards they needed were already set, preventing their well-meaning family from stopping by unannounced. They were completely alone and would be until they - just the two of them - decided otherwise.

The rain began in earnest outside just as Harry was jolted with that realization. They. Were. Alone. He couldn't even remember the last time they'd truly had such an indulgence. Their weekend away to the south of France the previous year had been interrupted by an owl that James was in the Hospital Wing after sneaking out of the castle for a late night fly on a dare from his friends. Harry had sworn up and down to Ginny that he hadn't given their eldest the Marauder's Map to take with him to school; he suspected the involvement of the twins. And the summer before that, with all three packed off to Molly and Arthur's for a couple of days, of course there would be rumblings that spells used to create Inferi had been detected in the Cotswolds. He'd slept at the office more than at home.

Thoughts of interruptions past melted away as the sheet slipped a little further down on Ginny's back. Instead of pushing himself against her, Harry backed up, running his hand down her side until it rested on her hip. Ginny mumbled in her sleep and Harry leaned close to her ear. "What part of you would you like me to touch next?" he murmured. He slid his hand down to her stomach.

As Harry had suspected, Ginny wasn't as asleep as she'd seemed. She laid her hand on top of his and moved it lower. "I want you to touch me here," she said. She was still faced away from him.

Harry propped himself up on his elbow so he had better access. He tickled the tips of his fingers against the sensitive skin of Ginny's folds, pushing his erection against her bum when she groaned and backed into him. He dipped his head down and kissed her shoulder.

Ginny rolled onto her back and looked up at him, eyes wide. "We can do whatever we want, take as long as we want, can't we?"

Harry nodded. "I want to explore every part of you," he said solemnly, liking the sound Ginny made in response. He lifted his hand away from between her legs, thinking. Before he could move the way he'd intended, to cover Ginny's body with his and begin kissing, she sat up. There was a wicked gleam in her eye.

"It's pretty warm outside, isn't it?"

Harry stared at her. "Umm, it's raining." Indeed, the distant thunder had gotten considerably closer in the last minutes and the view of their garden outside the bedroom window was blurry and wet.

Ginny ignored him and slid off the bed. Halfway to the door leading to their patio she stopped and looked back at him. She didn't say anything, just raised her eyebrows and then turned back around and kept walking.

Thoughts of the warm bed flew out of Harry's head. He stumbled slightly as he pulled off his pajama bottoms; by the time he straightened up, Ginny was outside.

The private patio off their bedroom was one of those things he hadn't realized he needed in a home until he had one. He and Ginny had coffee there on Sunday mornings and wine together some Friday nights. They could watch the children play in the garden from the patio's cushioned seats and Harry had even put his feet up for a nap or two.

They'd never made love there, though. He and Ginny had christened nearly every other room in the house over the years, but the patio had been added more recently when they'd landscaped their back yard. Their back garden neighbors weren't terribly close, but close enough to wave hello over the low fence and meet to share conversations or a cup of sugar on a regular basis. They were older than Harry and Ginny by about a decade, their children all graduated from Hogwarts, and as Harry slipped out after Ginny he decided to believe they were choosing to sleep late on this rainy Sunday.

Ginny was right; it was warm out. The morning felt more like muggy August than late September, and when Harry shivered, it had nothing to do with the temperature. Ginny was lounging on the sofa that took up one entire side of the small patio, leaning back on cushions covered in "outdoor" fabric that had been further made imperturbable to weather by magic. The rain was soft on her face, its passage hindered by the tree branches that criss-crossed above, and the lazy smile she gave Harry would have aroused him immediately if he hadn't already been hard. Ginny dropped her gaze to Harry's erection for a moment before finding his eyes again, and her smile got a little bigger.

"I knew this was a good idea," she said in a satisfied voice.

Ginny was taking up nearly the entire length of the sofa, but instead of lying on top of her, Harry lifted her legs and sat properly underneath, letting the underside of her knee rest on top of his erection. He grinned. "I can reach all your important parts this way," he said. Without waiting for a response he casually slipped two fingers between Ginny's legs, teasing around her opening for only a moment before entering. She gasped in surprise and lifted her hips.

"Rain not bothering you anymore, I guess?" she asked. She lifted her hips again and Harry obligingly pushed his fingers in further, curling them up in the way he knew she loved. He found her clit with his thumb and Ginny swore.

"The rain is perfect," agreed Harry. The air smelled fresh and clean and watching rivulets of water stream across Ginny's body reminded him forcibly of how much he loved pleasuring her in the shower. Harry moved his other hand up to play with Ginny's breasts, also easily accessible from where he sat. "It feels very private out here," he said. Ginny's nipples were already wrinkled and taut and Harry knew how sensitive they'd be, so he tickled his fingers across them with the barest pressure. Ginny groaned.

"But not . . . not so private that someone couldn't see." Ginny opened her eyes to look at him, her voice thick with arousal. "If Ara and Ori decided to step outside."

Harry's eyes flew to the back of their garden and then beyond to where he could just make out the outlines of the house on the other side of the fence. He'd not bothered with his glasses and so even if their neighbors decided to take a walk in the rain he wasn't sure he could have seen them. He moved his eyes back to Ginny. She was smirking, but her wide eyes gave everything away.

"I think I might see movement over there," Harry said quietly. He lifted Ginny's legs off his lap and moved to kneel between them. "They'll hear you if you scream." He slid lower and moved so that his tongue replaced his fingers.

"Ohh . . . yes," Ginny said, and it was louder than a mumble. Harry grinned in satisfaction; he loved all the different sounds Ginny made during sex.

Ginny moved her hands in his hair, tugging. "Get up here," she said breathlessly. "I want you now."

Harry responded immediately. In one practiced, fluid motion, he was up on top of Ginny and slipping inside her, pushing hard. Sometimes he teased around her entrance first, sometimes she pushed him backwards before he entered, sitting forward to take him in her mouth. But this time, this first time outside, in the rain, when they had the entire day ahead of them for whatever they wanted, the first thing they wanted was to fuck.

Harry pulled back and then plunged, grunting as he did.

"They . . . could hear that," Ginny said breathlessly, and Harry almost came right there. He moved a hand between them.

"They'll hear both of us," he said, and in his mind, their neighbors actually were outside, and could hear them, and knew exactly what was going on. He slid his hand under Ginny's back to pull her closer against him. The rough fabric of the sofa rubbed against his knees as he moved and he focused on that for a moment, trying to gain control.

"See us too," gasped Ginny. She put her hands on his backside and held him in place. "Don't more."

Harry forced himself to stay still. For a long moment, everything seemed to freeze. He watched Ginny's face, saw her biting her lip as she tried as hard as he was to draw everything out a little longer. The rain was gentle on his back and he could barely tell the difference between it and Ginny's hands moving on his skin. He leaned down and kissed away drops of water on her eyelashes and cheeks. "Can I move?" he groaned.

"Please," Ginny said, and the need was as strong in her voice as his. Their movements were erratic, but matched; they met each other at the top of every thrust and when Harry pulled back he could still feel Ginny against him in a dozen places along his skin.

Harry didn't give warning before he climaxed; he knew Ginny'd recognize that he was there. She tightened her legs around him and followed seconds later, making soft sounds of pleasure that meant she was nearly too overcome to speak.

Harry let himself rest his full weight on top of Ginny. Her lips found his first and she kissed him deeply; the first time they had that morning, he realized. He felt heavy and sated and could have lay there kissing his wife indefinitely, he thought lazily. They should always make love outside, from now on.

A crack of thunder and flash of lightning almost immediately overhead dispelled that notion and Harry startled so hard he almost fell off the sofa. As he was still inside Ginny, she might have tumbled with him, had her Chaser's reflexes not pulled them both back at the last minute. The thunder cracked again and Harry stood up and scooped Ginny into his arms. "Round two in the shower?" he asked, kicking open the door back into their bedroom. "I'm not done with you in the water yet."


End file.
